


Reverseworld Time with Finn and Jake

by Steeldragondown



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Adventure Time AU: Reverseworld, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 62,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steeldragondown/pseuds/Steeldragondown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn and Jake visit the Ooo of an alternate universe to find Finn’s penpal, but run into some unexpected - and familiar - faces. They must work together to get back home, but the past is about to catch up unpleasantly with one of their new companions…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can't Jake take you anywhere, Finn?

It was a quiet night in the Candy Kingdom. The gumball guardians, with no threats to deal with, idly blew bubbles in the moonlight, Princess Bubblegum and her citizens slumbered peacefully, with no lemony earls staring at them as they slept, and Peppermint Butler had taken the night off to go play a few holes of golf with Hunson Abadeer. Even the Ice King seemed to be favoring a quiet night in, likely putting the finishing touches to his latest “literary masterpiece”, _Fionna and Cake: Full Ice Consequences._

 All in all, a perfect night for sneaking into Princess Bubblegum’s secret lab.

 “So remind me again why we’re sneaking into Princess Bubblegum’s secret lab?” Jake said as he stretched up to the window nearest to the lab, Finn on his back.

 “I gotta send my reply to my penpal, is why.” Finn responded in-between envelope licks.

 “Waaait, since when do you have a penpal? And what’s that gotta do with PB’s lab, bro?” Jake questioned as the two of them stepped through the open window.

 “Since like a couple months ago. I found a letter in PB’s Dimensport-box - you know, that thing that we thought was a science fridge - addressed “to anyone”. At first I was gonna give it to PB, since I was there to collect her mail from it anyway, but I read it while looking for her and it turns out the dude who wrote it is pretty cool!” Finn dug around in his backpack for a moment, then pulled out a stack of letters and proceeded to start reading the first one aloud.

_“‘Dear whoever finds this letter,_

_Hello from my dimension! I’ve been told this device can send messages to other worlds, and I’ wanted to give it a shot! You can call me Professor Coldstone - I’m a pretty big hero in this world, even if I’ve done a couple things I’m not proud of in the past, and to our knowledge I’m also the last known human! Are there any other humans in your world? I’d love to hear all about it!_

_Hope to hear from you real soon,_

_-Professor Coldstone”_

 “Woah, so you think this might be you from an alternate dimension?” Jake said. “I mean, they said they’re a human, AND a big hero.“

“Could be!” Finn said, re-folding the letter as they entered the lab. “I know PB uses the Dimensport-box to write letters to herself in different dimensions, and if there’s a PB in Professor Coldstone’s universe, there’s gotta be a me too, right?”

 “So what kinda hero biz does your buddy get up to? Did he fight the Lich too?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, he mentioned that in letter two…” Finn said as he rifled through the letters again, heading for Princess Bubblegum’s Dimensport-box as he did so. ”He’s taken on all the other big bad monsters, too - dragons, chimeras, witches… And look, in letter four, he talks about how he took down two robbers with nothing but a bag of flour and some donuts! After he gave them his actual weapon!”

“Whaaat?!” Jake grabbed the relevant letter from Finn. “He’s gotta be makin’ that up… No, wait. Now I’m reading how he did it, it actually sounds pretty plausible. Dang, man, what if you and he teamed up in person or something? I bet the two of you could smite some serious evil together! Too bad we can’t visit him or somethin’.”

“Yeah…” Finn said, opening the Dimensport-box, latest letter to Professor Coldstone in hand. He often wondered why PB had made the inside so big if she was just going to use it as an interdimensional mailbox…

It was then that he realized that, if he tucked his knees in just right, he could totally fit his entire body in there. And if Jake shrunk himself down to about the size of a loaf of bread, he could fit in there too.

“….Jake, you think you could stretch to hit the “send” button on this thing from the inside? I’ve got an idea.”

“Probably, but are you sure Peebs is gonna be okay with you mailing yourself to other dimensions with her sciencey stuff? And do you even know how to work this thing?” Despite his verbal protestations, Jake had already started to shrink down to a bread-loaf-ish size as Finn climbed into the Dimensport-box.

“She showed me how when I wrote back to Professor Coldstone the first time.” Finn said, tucking his knees in. “She said it was okay, and she wouldn’t have made it big enough to transport something the machine couldn’t handle, right?”

“I guess so.” Jake replied, clambering into Finn’s lap and closing the door behind him, keeping one arm outside for now. “Wait, we’re not gonna leave my arm behind when I hit the send button, right? I need that arm for stuff. Important stuff!”

“There’s a three second countdown before it actually sends stuff, you can totes pull your arm in on time.” Finn said. “Now c’mon, I wanna see a whole new dimension!”

“Okay, I’m hittin’ it!” Jake said, and sure enough, a moment later the machine whirred to life as Jake pulled his arm back into the box and tugged the door fully shut.

“Three… two… ONE!” Finn counted down. “HERE WE GOOOO-”

The whirring noise intensified.

There was an electric, crackling noise, then everything got momentarily bright.

This was then followed by a loud, fizzing POP.

Then everything went dark.

“…Was that it?” Finn felt Jake shifting position in his lap.

“I think so. Although I’m pretty sure the lights weren’t supposed to go out.” Finn said, opening the door. Immediately, his heart sank - not only were the lights in the lab all suddenly out, but he spotted smoke coming off the panel on the outside of the Dimensport-box - that wasn’t supposed to happen! “Oh Glob, I think we overloaded it! PB’s gonna be furious at me!”

“And I don’t think we went to a different dimension, bro - everything looks about the same.” Jake said, peering into the gloom. “Just darker. Maybe all we did when we turned that thing on was blow all the fuses out!”

Finn sighed. He’d been looking forward to meeting “Professor Coldstone” even more than he’d let on, and now all he’d done was blow out all of PB’s fuses. Now he’d have to wait until she got more before he heard from his penpal again! And what if it COULDN’T be fixed? Or more likely, Princess Bubblegum didn’t let him near the thing again after it got fixed? Then what?

Finn was quickly denied the chance to worry any further about such things, as moments later a figure emerged from the blackness, grabbing the front of his shirt and yelling at him:

“WHAT DID YOU DO???”

It was Princess Bubblegum, but she looked… _different_. She was wearing a pair of sciencey-type goggles on her head instead of her crown, which, while odd, wasn’t entirely out of question… but she also looked like she’d decided to forego sleep and hairbrushes for a week, a decided change from her previous appearance fifteen minutes before.

”I-I just wanted to see if your dimensport-box could transport people! I didn’t mean to break it!”

“I-” Bubblegum squinted in the gloom for a moment, then dug a small flashlight out of her coat pocket, which she proceeded to shine in Finn’s face, then Jake’s. “…You’re… _oh!_ _”_ All the anger in PB’s voice dissipated, although her iron grip on Finn’s shirt did not.

“So wait, are we off the hook here?” Jake asked. “Even after blowing out half the power in the lab?”

Bubblegum didn’t seem to be listening, and instead was muttering to herself, sounding increasingly manic as she went on. “Yes… This just might work! I mean, you’re clearly not going to be exactly the same, but there’s a chance that if I work off of your brain waves and compare them to his…” Abruptly, she lifted Finn off his feet and tossed him into a nearby examination chair. “Stay RIGHT HERE while I fire up the backup generators and try to get main power back online!” PB dashed through to an adjacent room” We’re gonna need as much juice as we can get!”

“Wait, Juice?!” Finn called after her. “For what??”

“For the deep brain probe-scanning, silly!” Bubblegum called back. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this a couple times before! And I’ll use a clean bonesaw on you, I promise!”

“Uh… Yeah, that’s good!” Finn yelled, trying to conceal his sudden, very intense concern for his own safety.

“Wow, I… I think Princess Bubblegum might have gone crazy.” Jake whispered as Finn leapt out of the chair.

“Geez, I think so. maybe us using the Dimensport-box thing caused that?” Finn hoped he could fix this before this new, maniacal Princess Bubblegum decided to brain-probe-scan everyone in the candy kingdom.

“I dunno. Maybe she’s a Princess Bubblegum from an alternate dimension! One where she’s crazy or somethin’.” Jake responded, morphing his hand into a key for the door.

“What?! Oh geez, what if we dialled the wrong dimension and summoned a bunch of evil counterparts!” Finn whispered (Well, it was more like quietly screaming at this point).

“Maybe, dude. “ A click announced that Jake had managed to open the door. ” For now, let’s get out of here before this crazy version of PB saws your dome open and starts pokin’ at your noodle.”

The two of them had managed to sneak halfway down the hall - which, for some reason, was more darkly decorated than Finn remembered it - when they heard the lab door slam open.

“WAIT, COME BACK! YOU DON’T KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THIS IS!!!” Finn turned to look to see PB advancing on them rapidly, some sort of electric probe in one hand and a bonesaw in the other.

“OH GLOB, LET’S GET OUT OF HERE!” Jake yelled, shifting to a larger, rideable form. Finn took the hint and leapt on his best friend and brother’s back, gripping his fur tightly as Jake put on some extra speed as he rounded a corner. “We better check outside, dude, maybe we can find the real Bubblegum, or someone else who can help us!”

“But what if the crazy PB follows us out there? We need to make sure she doesn’t rampage outside the castle! We need to make sure she stays inside the lab until we find the real PB!”

“GUYS, GET BACK HERE!” PB yelled distantly - from what sounded a lot like the corridor outside the lab. “I CAN’T LEAVE THE LAB UNATTENDED WITH ALL THOSE BUST FUZES!”

Finn paused. Then, pointing, “…Take a left here, we’ll head out through one of the side gates.”

  
——

  
It became immediately apparent, after exiting the castle, that they were NOT in fact in the Candy Kingdom.

A flock of bats passed overhead as the two of them took in the sights. It wasn’t just the interior of the castle that was darker than Finn recalled - what was once yellow and pink candy brickwork was now black granite and steel, with accents of crimson and purple here and there. The local houses had similar makeovers, with slate tiled roofs and wrought iron railings being a staple motif. Looking down the road from his vantage point on Jake’s back, Finn realized that some of the buildings in the kingdom were built on stilts in what looked like vast pits of mud or tar.

“Woah, dude, how did everything get so spooky all of a sudden?” Jake said, backing up against the door. in a nearby cafe patio, Nearby, a couple of skeletons and a fuzzy jumping spider the size of a person had looked up from their plates of fries to stare at the shockingly unspooky newcomers.

Finn, however, did not seem quite as perturbed. “Wait, Jake. I know where we are!

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah!… Well, I think so.” Finn dug the letters out of his backpack again. ”Professor Coldstone mentioned a Monster Kingdom full of good monsters in one of his letters! We _did_ travel to his dimension after all!”

Jake grinned. “Awesome, the dimensional fridge machine _worked!_ …. or it did until it broke, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re stuck here till we work out how to fix it.” Finn hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. While he had wanted to visit his friend, he definitely didn’t want to be stuck away from home forever.

“Well, we can ask your letter buddy to help us, right?” Jake said. “‘Cause I… don’t really wanna face that Princess Bubblegum. She might saw open MY head too. Where does Professor Thingystone lives?”

“I think he said it was a treehouse near the monster kingdom.” Finn responded, waving at the three gawkers. He didn’t think anyone would recognize his friend’s pen name, but he knew something else that would identify him to locals. “Hey, do you guys know if there’s a human living nearby? We gotta ask him something.”

The jumping spider, proboscis still in his fries, spoke. “Y’r tlkin btt Sch’mn rtt?” He raised a fuzz-covered leg and pointed east. “ih Iizz th’t wy bhh’t thee mlzz.”

Finn had only understood a fraction of what the spider had said, but he and Jake both understood pointed directions easily enough. “Thanks, dude!” Finn called as he and Jake rode off. “Enjoy your fries!”

“W’ll drrr!” the spider said, waving after them. His skeletal companions frowned at his bad manners. Speaking with your mouth full? How gross!

 

——-

 

It was only after passing through the last of the bone-white, red-needled pines that lined the edges of the monster kingdom that they saw it on the horizon, illuminated by the rising moon.

“Dude, that looks pretty much exactly like OUR house.” Jake said as they crossed the river. “right down to the boat on the roof.”

“Weird. I know he said some stuff in our world was kind of the same, but our exact same treehouse?” Finn frowned. “We gotta check this out, Jake.”

“Yeah, what if our presence caused a dimensional shift and your buddy’s being held hostage by, like, evil versions of us? Maybe they took him by surprise and he’s tied up in their secret lair!”

“Whaaat?” Finn raised an eyebrow. “Jake, the possibility of even half of what you said happening is pretty low.” Finn responded as they neared the treehouse. “Besides, from what he’s said in his letters, Professor Coldstone’s totally smart enough to outwit two evil dimension doubles.”

“Uhh… You sure about that, dude?” Jake said, pointing to the front door - which had been torn off its hinges and was lying a few feet away from doorway. “‘Cause it looks like SOMETHING broke in really really recently!”

Finn jumped from Jake’s back, running inside. If the door to this treehouse was anything like the one back home, it would have taken a hell of a lot of force to rip it off the hinges. “Eesh. Yeah, I think we better check inside.” Despite the sudden potential threat, Finn couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement - After so long, he was finally going to meet Professor Coldstone! Heck, if there really WERE bad dudes in there, he was going to meet his friend by _fighting alongside him!_ What could be more math than that?

 However, once inside, he realized that things were decidedly more off than he had expected. The treasure room looked… _different_ _._ Instead of artifacts, gold and jewels being heaped haphazardly wherever they could fit, someone had carefully stacked gold coins into countless pillars, sorted trinkets and gems into large crates, and placed illuminated scrolls - _what were scrolls doing in the treasure room?!_ \- into neatly arranged piles. It looked more like a cargo hold than a treasure room, Finn thought.

“What the-?!” Jake exclaimed as he headed inside. “Did someone break into your buddy’s house and tidy up?”

“We’d better check out the rest of the house.” Finn said, climbing the ladder to the upstairs levels, Jake following close behind. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but it clearly ain’t right.”

 

——

 

Despite the gloom inside - the only light was a dim glow from the oven, which was on for some reason - it became immediately clear that the treasure room was not the only thing that had been changed. Bookshelves and cabinets filled with all sorts of artifacts lined many of the living room walls, with tapestries and wall-hangings taking up most of the free wall space. It looked like something between a museum and a library.

A delicious, sugary aroma was emanating from the oven.

“Hey, smells like whoever broke in is bakin’ cookies!” Jake whispered, his nose stretching all the way over to the oven to get a better sniff. “I think they put a little honey in these! Nice!”

“Jake, focus! We gotta find out who broke in here and make sure Professor Coldstone is okay!”

“Well, can we at least turn on the light?” Jake said, following his nose over to the kitchen. “At least then we’ll know if they’re hiding in the corners of the room or somethin’.”

“Yeah, good point.” Finn said, flicking on the light switch next to him with a _click_.

 Immediately, from above them, came a frantic scuffling, followed by several thuds.

 Finn’s head snapped upwards. “I think they’re in the bedroom!”

“Yeah, but now they know we’re comin’. Want me to stay here and cover the exits?” Jake said, conspicuously eyeing the cookies in the oven. They looked about done, and Jake was sorely tempted to take them out of the oven before they got burned.

 Finn rolled his eyes. He trusted Jake to not get so distracted that he wouldn’t notice someone trying to make a break for it, cookies or not, but _still_. ”Yeah, just… don’t get too distracted by those cookies, dude.” Finn climbed up the ladder leading to the second floor and bedroom, taking care to skip the creaky fourth rung on his way up.

Jake, finally alone with the cookies, suppressed a giggle of glee as he slipped on some oven gloves, quietly opened the oven door and pulled out the tray of cookies. The uninhibited scent of cookies hit jake’s sensitive nose like a delicious fist. He’d have to wait a minute or two for them to cool down, but once that happened, he was totally gonna go to _town_ on those cookies…

 Jake suddenly registered hurried footsteps behind him, and they didn’t sound like Finn’s. He quickly put the tray of hot cookies on the kitchen table, pulled off the oven gloves, and turned around just in time to see the person making the footsteps rush into the room.

 “Oh, hey, you caught them before they burned!” The newcomer said, not seeming all that concerned with Jake’s appearance. “They’re for you and your friend anyway - Bonnibel sent a messenger over saying you were probably on your way here - I don’t know why she didn’t send Peppermint Butler, though, the guy she did send got too impatient and ripped the front door right off its dang hinges when he got here! I must say, I wasn’t really expecting you to be, well, _you,_ but she did say you were both from an alternate dimension, so I guess I didn’t know _what_ to expect!”

 Jake de-stretched his jaw from the floor to its proper place. Of all the people he’d been expecting to see here, he hadn’t been expecting _this._ And he hadn’t expected _that_ out of their mouth.

“So, uh… If you’re…” Jake gestured weakly to the other, having trouble finding words for what he was seeing. “Then who’s Finn gonna find upstairs?…”

Jake had a feeling he already knew the answer to this.

 

——

 

Finn’s gut turned at the dim but unmistakable sight of bunny ears peeping out from under the bedcovers - What if they’d been in the wrong dimension all this time, and he was in a dimension where Ice King’s creepy fanfiction about a girl version of him was true?! he hoped fervently that the part about her being in love with Ice King wasn’t true, too! Steeling himself for a fight, and his sword half drawn, he pulled back the covers…

…Only to be greeted by a taxidermied rabbit and a sweater full of pillow. _A trap!_ Finn fully drew his sword and whirled round just in time to see a shadowy figure leap from the top of a nearby bookshelf and lash out at him with some sort of flail. Whoever had taken over the treehouse in this dimension, they’d heard him coming! Finn blocked, then struck out at the newcomer, who dodged - _wow, he’s fast!_ _,_ Finn thought, as he tried to dodge a blow from the flail-type weapon and only partially succeeded. Throwing all caution to the wind, he charged at the figure, grabbing the collar of their clothes with the intent of slamming him up against the wall.

It might have worked if it hadn’t been so dark and he hadn’t essentially thrown both himself and his adversary down the ladder hole to the floor below by accident instead. instead, the two of them went tumbling head-over-heels down to the next floor, kicking and punching each other as they went (Finn’s mystery assailant didn’t hit nearly as hard as he did, but he hit faster and was better at fully evading blows). The two of them hit the floor in a heap, Finn scrambling to his feet as the newcomer leapt to his own

 “Give up?” The shadowy figure spoke for the first time - his voice sparking some sort of memory in Finn’s head that he couldn’t quite place.

 “No way.” Finn replied, readying his demonsblood sword again as the other started to twirl his flail once more. He didn’t know who this jerk was, but he was prepared to engage them in an epic battle to defeat him and find out what had happened to Professor Coldstone, even if it took all ni-

The light clicked on.

“Geez, Finn, I leave you alone for five minutes and you get into a fight and don’t even invite me!” Jake’s voice sounded from the doorway, his mouth sounding suspiciously full.

“I guess they share bad manners in common,” another voice intoned from the doorway. “Oi, put the nunchucks down, we’ve got guests!”

Finn wasn’t paying much attention to whomever was in the doorway, his focus more on his now-revealed ambusher.

He knew this boy, this fellow human. From a thousand-year-old VCR tape.

_“Now, I never believed in the supernatural stuff, just had a fascination with superstitions…”_

 Except the last time he’d seen him like this, he’d been an adult, and he’d lived before the war.

_“But everything changed when I came into contact with this item….”_

 Finn now quite clearly remembered _where_ he’d heard that voice.

 The other boy looked just as shocked as he did - although judging by his expression, the shock seemed to be rapidly giving way to curiosity? - and didn’t seem all too willing to put the nunchucks down just yet.

Then, tentatively, he spoke. “…Finn-Ice, right?”

Finn _-_ _Ice._ There were implications behind being called that, ones Finn didn’t like. Did that mean that HE was the one who got cursed by that crown in this world?

But if he was the one with the ice crown in this world, then that meant…

That meant that _this guy_ …

Finn looked towards the doorway. Beside Jake, holding a plate of cookies (That Jake was rapidly demolishing), there was a _penguin._

“C’mon, man, put the sword down!” Jake said, growing even more arms with which to hold tasty baked treats. “Gunter made us cookies!”

Finn couldn’t help himself. Gesturing wildly towards the other boy, he stated what he assumed to be the bleeding obvious. “BUT—- BUT HE’S A BIG NER-”

A loud _THWACK_ \- the sort of THWACK one would get if you struck someone in the head with nunchucks - resonated through the treehouse, followed by a weighty THUD as Finn collapsed to the ground unconscious.

“SIMON!” Gunter exploded. “What was that for?! You are SO not getting any cookies now!”

Simon adjusted his glasses with one hand as he hung his nunchucks from his belt with the other. “You heard him! He called me a big nerd!”

“No offence, dude,” Jake said with a mouth full of cookie, ”But you’re wearing a bow tie and glasses. That’s kinda super mega nerdy right there.”

“That doesn’t mean he gets to break into my house and be a jerk about it, bro.” Simon folded his arms. Gunter facepalmed (Or face-winged, to be more accurate). Why did this happen every time somebody popped in for an unexpected visit?


	2. Meals, insults and destinations

Finn woke up on the couch, his head pounding. Man, what a weird dream that had been - In an alternate universe, he and the Ice King had switched their places in life? Ludicrous! _Why do I keep napping on this couch when all it does is make me sore and give me weird dreams?_ He thought, as his nose caught the smell of bacon and pancake mix. Finn couldn’t help but smile as he rolled over. _Wow, must be a special occasion if he’s making bacon pancakes…_

“See, you wouldn’t think this’d be awesome with maple syrup on it, but it is! Although I’d skip out on addin’ fruit to the batter.”

“I dunno, it might be nice with a little applesauce mixed in!“ Gunter chimed in. “Not too much, though… don’t wanna overpower the bacon.”

“So… I guess last night wasn’t a dream, huh?” Finn groaned, rubbing his head as he sat up. “Where’s Simon?” After so long connecting that name to a crazy old Wizard, it was downright _bizarre_ to be using it to refer to a kid who’d looked to be around the same age as him. Even if they were, after a fashion, the same person.

“He fell asleep reading again last night, he’ll probably wake up late.” Gunter said. “Which is lucky for you, because one, we’ve made enough here for three people, and two, I told him I’m not cooking him breakfast again until he won our bet.” With a quiet _pop_ noise, a greenish clone of Gunter appeared on top of the original’s head, opened one of the kitchen cupboards and collected three plates. “Of course, sometimes he manages to sneak down early and steal half of _my_ breakfast, but that’s Simon for you, he’s like a bloomin’ ninja sometimes.”

“Uhh.” Finn responded, his eyes fixated on the green clone, which had hopped off of Gunter’s head and was now setting the table. “How are you doing that again?”

“Gunter’s got different magical powers from me.” Jake said as he fed oranges into the juicer. “Instead of stretching, he can make copies of himself and change his size. It’s kinda neat to meet any other dude with unexplained magic powers, though, y’know?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Finn said, walking over to help Gunter carry the food over to the table. “Hey, Simon called me ‘Finn-Ice’ before I got knocked out last night - I take it there’s a version of me in this world who’s an Ice King and kidnaps princesses?

“Well, our universe’s you isn’t a _King,_ he’s a Prince, and he kidnaps dogs instead of princesses, but he IS an Ice Prince.” Gunter said as he sat down and picked up a fork.

Finn listened to Gunter elaborate on the details of his dimensional doppleganger and his army of taffy-dogs (all named Jake) as he ate, his mind drifting back to his enigmatic pen-pal. Clearly there was another treehouse around here, one that housed Professor Coldstone, and he was going to have to find it… even if it meant recruiting the big nerd currently sleeping through breakfast upstairs. After all, they needed a guide to this alternate Ooo! (or Uuu, as Gunter had called it.)

Suddenly, upstairs, there was a thud, followed by a muffled “Aw, _breadballs!_ ” and some frantic scrabbling interspersed with more muttered cursing.

“Oop, sounds like Sleeping Beauty’s finally up.” Gunter said,  glancing briefly upwards. “He’ll be down any second now looking for leftovers…”

As if on cue, Simon practically leaped down the ladder shaft, his bow tie still undone, barefoot and hurriedly shouting. “I’MHEREI’MHEREDON’TSTARTWITHOUTM-Aw, dangit! Missed it again?!”

“Well, don’t stay up late reading letters in bed!” Gunter chortled through a mouthful of pancake. “Or you could just win our bet and I’d bring you breakfast in bed, but we both know that’ll never happen.”

Simon shrugged and headed over to the kitchen, doing up his bow tie as he walked. “Yeah, you laugh now, but I’m gonna grow that beard.” Finn barely stopped himself from coughing up orange juice at this. Not only because of the irony, but because if it weren’t for the fact that Simon was slightly taller than him, he’d have sworn the other boy was much younger. He doubted he would EVER be able to grow a beard without the use of a cursed ice crown.

“Hey, you should probably get acquainted with Finn now he’s awake!” Gunter called over the sound of frying. “You know, after you knocked him out last night! Besides, they’ll probably want to help us get those parts Bonnibel asked us to get for her if they want to make it home!”

“Wait, you keep talkin’ about that. What parts?” Jake said, in the middle of demolishing his second helping.

“You guys blew out all the fuses in the monster kingdom’s lab when you got here.” Simon said, flipping the omelette he was in the middle of cooking. “There’s also a bust compression coil that needs fixing - Bonnie’s messenger said she needs it to make sure the fuses don’t blow up again when you guys leave.”

“What about the fuses in PB’s lab in our world? Won’t they need replaced too?” Finn hoped PB wasn’t going to stay mad at him for what he’d done. In retrospect, he felt incredibly dumb for trying to do such a thing in the first place - She’d probably have helped him if he’d just asked “Hey, Peebs, can this thing send a whole person to a different dimension?”.

“She said that your version of Bonnie has replacement fuses, she just needs to make a new compression coil before she’s ready.” Simon replied, seating himself opposite Finn. “She never said how she communicated to your dimension, but I guess there must be a way - Otherwise how else would they be able to build the same machine in both worlds?” Simon shrugged, mouth full of omelette. “Anyway, getting ahold of everything won’t be too much a problem - we just head over to Junkyard Town and dig some up.”

“So exactly how are we gonna know what to look for?” Jake said. “‘cause ‘compression coil’ isn’t really ringing any bells here.”

Simon poured himself a glass of the leftover orange juice. “No problem, dude - she gave me the full names of everything she wanted! I’ve got a book on spare parts that’s got pictures of everything upstairs. I’ll just bring the book along with us and show you what they look like.” Finn had trouble controlling the urge to slam his face onto his empty plate in disgust - _Glob, what a bookworm! He must be a riot at parties…. Was Ice King just as bad as this before he became the Ice King?_

“Sounds good to me!” Gunter said, standing. There were more _pop_ sounds as he generated green clones to take the dirty dishes to the sink. “I’ll wash up while you get everything ready… and some shoes on. I still don’t get how you don’t get splinters in your feet, Simon.”

“I don’t _not_ get splinters, Gunter, it’s just they don’t really hurt when I get ‘em on my feet.” Simon said, looking down at his feet. “And hey, where’s Football? You’d think she’d wanna hang out.”

“I think we might have run her batteries down a bit last night after Jake played for four hours solid.” Gunter said, absorbing a superfluous clone with a _shupp_ sound. “She’s probably still recharging.”

Finn turned to Jake. “Football? Like BMO’s…?”

“I dunno, man.” Jake said. “She’s pretty much exactly the same as BMO, though. Except for her game library, I guess - there’s this one game where you’re a detective stuck in your office and you end up teaming up with two other detectives to save the universe. I got stuck on the four warring kingdoms part, though.”

“Do not feel bad, Jake.” A familiar voice said from the doorway. Finn looked over, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought BMO had followed them to Uuu. Aside from the lack of “BMO” logo on her side and the different pronoun used, Football indeed seemed pretty identical to their friend back home. “Even Simon gets stuck on that part. Would you like to play again before you leave?”

“Hey, I managed to solve it once!” Simon protested.

“Only because you used a cheat co-”

Simon interrupted her mid-sentence, suddenly quite flustered. “Weren’t you gonna play with Jake again before we head out!”

“Yeah, he’s got a point there, Football, we’re wasting game time!” Jake chuckled.

He then stretched over the table to whisper in Simon’s ear. “Dude, If you remember that code, I could use it. I’m never gonna get past that four kingdoms bit!”

Simon sighed.  “I can’t actually remember the code, but… Tell the arbiter to search for the solution on the computer in-game. That’s how I found the code the last time.” He whispered.

“That works?! Wow, thanks, man!” Jake grinned, jumping out of his seat and making a beeline for Football. “All right, Football, let’s finish this thing!”

“Simon told you the cheat code, didn’t he?” Football said gleefully. “He can be such a bad influence!”

Simon groaned, flopping over the table and slipping fingers behind his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Eesh…” He then seemed to remember Finn was sitting across from him, and sat up and composed himself.

“Hey, uh… Sorry for KO-ing you last night. Adrenaline and all that.” Simon began, awkwardly. “I just kinda got antsy with the door missing and all that, and when I heard you guys downstairs I thought it was Prince Finn-Ice sneaking in.“

Finn huffed, arms crossed. “Yeah, whatever… _y’_ _big nerd._ ”

Simon glared over the table at Finn. “Rich talk coming from a colossal, attack-everything meathead like you.”

“ _Meathead?!_ _”_ Finn yelled. “And _you’re_ the one who attacked me last night!”

“Says the guy who came into the house without knocking, started sneaking around and then came into my room with his sword half drawn!” Simon replied. “Did it ever occur to you to _knock_ first? Or at least yell to see if anyone was home?”

“I thought my pen-pal Professor Coldstone was in trouble!” Finn retorted. “I didn’t know some… wannabe-ninja bookworm version of Ice King lived here instead of him! I was looking for a _hero!_ … instead, I found _you._ ”

Simon stood up abruptly, hands pressed flat on the table. Finn immediately sensed he’d gone too far.

“…I’m gonna go get my stuff together.” Simon said, voice even and calm in that very specific way that only comes from someone who is not actually calm inside.

“H-hey, I-” Finn began to apologize, but Simon was already halfway up the ladder shaft. “Crub. I think I really upset him.”

“I think you went too far comparing him to Ice King, man.” Jake said from his position in the beanbag chair with Football. “I mean, yeah, he’s a big nerd, sure, but he ain’t Ice King any more than you’re that Prince Finn-Ice guy. And to be honest? from talkin’ to him last night, he’s actually really funny, despite the nerd status! you two could easily be best buds, bro, trust me!”

“Uggh.” Finn laid his head on the table. “I dunno about being _friends_ _,_ but I’m gonna apologize to him for that the first chance I get.”

 

——

 

The first thing Simon did on reaching his room was not, in fact, put his shoes on, but kick the side of his bed in frustration. And then hop around briefly in pain, muttering swearwords under his breath, before falling onto the pile of ornate tapestries, handmade rugs, embroidered silks and animal skins topped with a garish leopard-print blanket that made up his bed.

“Great. Just _great._ ” he said aloud to nobody in particular, rolling onto his front. “And of COURSE Football would bring up that cheat code…”

Simon lay face down for a moment, stewing in his own frustration. Then, slowly, he slid a hand under the pillows, pulling out a stack of letters kept folded carefully in a scrap of cloth, selecting the first one:

_To Professor Coldstone._

_I found your letter in Princess Bubblegum’s dimensional fridge thing! PB says I can use the fridge to write you back. I’m super stoked to hear you’re a human - I thought I was the last one anywhere! And we’re not just both humans, we’re both big heroes! You’ve gotta tell me some of the heroic deeds you’ve done! Did you ever fight a guy called The Lich? How many princesses have you rescued? I hope your PB lets you write me back too, I can’t wait to hear about it! I’m sure we’re gonna be great friends!_

_-Prince Hotbod_

Simon sighed, folding the letter again and putting it back in the envelope. He’d worked out who ‘Prince Hotbod’ was briefly after rendering him unconcious last night, but he hadn’t expected him to be such a _jerk_ in person! “So much for ‘great friends’… I guess I’ll just have to _show_ him I’m heroic after all before he leaves. Assuming I get a chance to…”

 

———-

 

Half an hour later, the four of them were making their way along a rocky path through a forested valley. Finn would normally have rode on Jake’s back for such a long hike, but most of the paths Simon and Gunter were claiming to be the quickest route to Junkyard Town were too narrow or densely covered in trees for that to be workable. Simon and Gunter seemed rather used to the terrain, however - Simon in particular seemed to be undeterred by anything the road could throw at him, hopping up ledges without breaking stride and balancing adeptly over long-fallen trees that now served as makeshift bridges. Despite that, both Finn and Jake agreed that Gunter’s ability to keep up with Simon seemed more impressive - To make up for the fact he was a stumpy-legged penguin, he tended to get rather creative with his self-cloning ability, often generating totem poles of green doubles to quickly climb ledges, and once, generating a bridge out of duplicates who would link flippers as he passed over them. Plus, whenever they were faced with a downward slope with a clear enough path, he would often drop to his belly and toboggan downhill.

“Don’t… don’t you get tired doin’ that all the time?” Jake asked him on one of these downhill slopes, a bit out of breath despite having stretched his legs longer to keep pace. “What if we get in a fight on the way to this place and you’re too pooped to kick butt?”

“Eh, as long as I don’t generate too many doubles at once, I’ll be okay… But now you mention it, I almost forgot that Simon owes me a ride after I gave him one the other day! Oi, get back here, Simon, you owe me a bag ride!”

Simon finally halted pace, allowing for the other three to catch up with him as he unbuckled the strap on his satchel. “Oh yeah, almost forgot…. I dunno if I’ve got room in here right now, though. Too many sandwiches, not enough Gunter-space.”

“I vote we stop for lunch!” Jake panted, hands on knees. “And that you slow the heck down, ‘cause _geez_ do you move fast.”

A small clearing in the forest nearby, dominated by an ancient, rusting tank rising halfway out of the ground like a shipwreck, was deemed to be the most suitable spot for lunch. Finn sat on the body of the tank, Jake and Gunter sat on a rock nearby, comparing sandwiches. The two of them had insisted on making their own - Gunter had forged a BLT - Bacon, Lettuce and Trout -, while Jake had made himself a turkey sub with all the works. Simon perched himself on the corroded barrel of the tank’s cannon as he ate, sandwich in one hand, balancing a book called “A Beginner’s Guide To Salvaging Pre-Mushroom War Machine Parts” in his lap with the other. Finn wasn’t sure what was in Simon’s sandwich, but the one that had been made for him had some sort of delicious spicy potato-based filling, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities that he’d put the same thing in both sandwiches.

Finn, finally seeing a chance to talk to Simon without him having a reason to run ahead, approached Simon’s end of the rusted landmark. Simon, having seen him coming, closed his book and stowed it back in his bag.

“…Yeah?”

“Hey, uh… “Finn tried to find the right words. “About this morning and what I said…I was being a real donk. I don’t even know you, dude, I shouldn’t have compared you to a jerk like Ice King so quickly. I’m sorry, okay?”  
The other boy sighed, swallowing his mouthful of sandwich. “Look, I…” For a moment, Simon looked as if he was about to say something else, but had changed his mind at the last second. “…It’s fine, seriously. Well, what you _said_ wasn’t fine, but I kinda figure that if someone knocked me out for an entire night, I wouldn’t be predisposed to being friendly to them as soon as I woke up either, so I guess I understand why you’d say something like that… Let’s just, like, pretend that never happened and move on, okay?”

“Deal.” A pause, and then: “…You’re still a big nerd, though.”

“…Fair enough.” Simon said, then sneezed. It sounded suspiciously like “ _MEATHEAD!_ ”.

Gunter and Jake sat, watching their adoptive human siblings’ conversation suddenly degenerate into a series of thinly-disguised-by-coughs-and-burps insults directed at each other.

“I think they’re gonna be okay.” Jake said through a mouthful of sandwich.

“Oh, yeah.” Gunter replied after swallowing his own mouthful. “Definitely BFF material in the making.”

 

———

 

Junkyard Town was, it turned out, not too far from their lunch spot - the trees started to clear as they progressed down the path, giving way to more and more rusted relics of the past. As they rounded a corner, Finn spied a sign - which looked to have been painted over some other, pre-war sign - proudly proclaiming “WELCOME 2 JUNKYARD TOWN”.

“So this is Junkyard Town?” Finn said. “Kinda just looks like a plain ol’ junkyard to m-”

“AWRIGHT, YOU STINKIN’ THIEF, WHERE’D YOU HIDE IT?”

“I DIDN’T TAKE YOUR STUPID POST! I’VE BEEN LOOKIN’ FOR MY GNAWBLOCK ALL DAY”

Suddenly, a hidden door in the side of a dilapidated-looking boat swung open, and a rat-man stomped out, hotly pursued by a furious looking cat.

“Woah, guys!” Simon made a beeline for the arguing duo. “What’s going on here!”

“That greasy runt stole my freakin’ scratching post!”

“I so did not! I told you, I ain’t done anything today except look for my gnawblock!” the rat-man huffed, crossing his arms.

“What’s a gnaw-block?” Finn asked.

“It’s kinda like a rodent toothbrush - a flavored block of wood for chewing on to keep their teeth from overgrowing. Pretty valuable thing in Junkyard Town, from what I’ve heard,” Simon explained.

“Yeah, which is why it was probably some mangy cat that stole it!” the rat interjected.

“Oh, HERE we go!” the cat exploded, stomping his feet. “Because it’s only ever cats that steal gnawblocks! Yeah, like when Todd’s gnawblock got stolen last week, you said it was probably his cat roommate!“

“Wh-what?! You do the same freakin’ thing whenever a scratching post gets stolen! Like RIGHT NOW, with you blaming me!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Calm down!” Simon interrupted. “Are a lot of scratching posts and gnawblocks going missing?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of an epidemic,” the rat-man said, still giving his feline housemate the stink-eye. ” If it weren’t for the mayor’s “cheap blocks ‘n’ posts for the needy” drives, there’d probably be not a single gnaw-block or scratching post between all the folk in town.”

“Yeah, for realsies,” the cat added. “I don’t care what species he is, he’s totes getting my vote next year for doin’ that.”

Finn frowned. He was starting to suspect that the “cheap blocks ‘n’ posts” deal wasn’t as awesome as the cat and rat were making it out to be, and judging by Simon’s expression, he’d come to the same conclusion.

Gunter, who’d shrunk himself down to about the size of a guinea pig, poked his head out of Simon’s bag. “We’ve got time to help out, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Simon said. “No reason we can’t ask around and look for parts at the same time, right?”

“Parts, huh?” The cat inquired. “What’re you looking for?”

Simon dug through his bag, retrieving the book he’d brought. “Eight high-voltage fuses of this make-” Simon opened the book at the page he’d marked, pointing to the appropriate diagram. ”-and a compression coil. Bonnie said she’d prefer a Blue Sun brand one, if there is one.”

The rat scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I dunno about compression coils, but you’ll easily find fuses of that type of you look in the right places - I think there’s a lot of different fuses near the bikes. if you can’t find enough of ‘em lying around, there’s Milly’s Fuseoleum in town square.”

“I think I can help with the compression coil, “ the cat added. ”I’m pretty sure I saw one down by the bikes as well, but that was a week ago. And if that doesn’t work out, check in with Old Baxter’s bar! I think he mentioned something about having one up for grabs if someone could complete his gross challenge.”

“Thanks, guys!” Finn said. While it wasn’t his only priority, Finn figured he didn’t need getting the dimensport-box fixed and securing a way home looming on his mind while looking for Professor Coldstone. “So where do we hit up first?”

“Dibs on doing the gross challenge for the compression thing!” Jake exclaimed as they walked into town square, which was actually more of a circular clearing in the rows of scrap metal, market stalls lined up around a tall signpost adorned with multiple pre-war signs in the center. “Hehehe, I love doing gross challenges.”

“Oooh, I wanna go do the gross challenge with Jake!” Gunter said, squirming out of Simon’s bag and growing back to his normal size. ”Besides, it’s probably best for us to split up into two groups. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Finn rolled his eyes - he was pretty sure the two of them were simply looking for an excuse to hang out, which, considering they’d hit it off so well, wasn’t surprising, but he’d been hoping to go with Jake… partially because he still wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hang out alone with the big nerd. Even if he WAS very really good at burping whole words. Besides, most of those words had been insults!

Simon, however, didn’t seem too perturbed by the idea. “Yeah, sounds like a good idea. We might as well go find the part of town with all the bikes, just in case the thing at the bar doesn’t work out.” He pointed to the signpost tower. ”We’ll all meet up there when we have everything, okay?”

“Gotcha!”

“See you two later!”

Finn watched Jake head off to the other end of the city. “So… You think that whole cheap blocks-and-posts thing is a scam? Like, the mayor’s stealing their stuff and selling it back to them?”

“I dunno if it’s specifically the mayor’s doing, but yeah, _definitely_ a scam.“ Simon affirmed. ” I wanna check it out before we go fuse-hunting, even - You saw that cat and rat earlier,  whoever’s responsible is turning all the people in town against each other! That ain’t right.”

Finn nodded. “So where’re we checking first? The block-and-post place?”

“That’s probably a good place to start,” Simon said, making for the double-decker bus labelled TOWN HALL at the base of one of the junk pillars. ”  I think they’ll probably have the place up near town hall, so we check there first, and WOAH-“ Simon suddenly dodged behind a half-flattened car, dragging Finn with him by the arm. “Oh boy. Oh geez…”

“Woah, dude, what was that about?!” Finn said, peeking out from behind the totalled vehicle in the direction the other boy had been looking seconds before. In front of the town hall, a tall figure in white was pushing a small cart full of scratching posts and colored wooden blocks - some of them pre-chewed and scratched - into the square. The figure’s hat obscured his features from Finn, but the silken sash across his chest emblazoned with the word MAYOR gave away his identity.. “…Wait. Why are we hiding from the mayor? I thought you said he might not have done it!”

“Yeah, well. That was BEFORE I saw the guy for myself. I kinda know who that is,” Simon replied with a pained smile. “He’s called O’Malley, and he’s… Well, he’s sketch.”

“How sketch?”

“Sketch as _garlic balls_ _._ I thought he was in jail… Unless he broke out.” Simon peered out from their hiding spot. “Or maybe he got out for good behavior or something, I dunno.”

“You think he’s reformed or something?” Finn said.

“Ugh, unlikely. I think we need to work on finding proof before we go storming on out there, or they’ll never believe us.” Simon sighed.

“Not that I’m arguing against looking for proof first, but why wouldn’t they believe us?” Finn inquired.

For a brief moment, Simon looked torn, chewing at his lower lip. “He’s… kind of super charismatic. Kept a lot of notes on his schemes, though.” Finn eyed Simon for a moment. How did he know so much about someone that shady?

“…But we’d get into trouble if we just broke into his office to look for the notes… Hmm… “Simon thought, eyes closed momentarily in concentration.” It might be less trouble if we go look for where he’s keeping the other stolen scratching posts and gnawing blocks before we confront him - that way, we’ve got evidence on our side.”

“I get it, if we have evidence against him, we can use it as a reason to search his office for his notes!” Finn grinned. He had to admit, this kid’s nerdiness was coming in handy!

“Yeah! He’s probably got way more of them stashed somewhere other than that cart.“ Simon said. ”But where do we even start looking?”

“Maybe we can look while finding the fuses and the thingy coil. That way, we’ve got a reason to be snooping around.” Finn said, standing up. The mayor didn’t seem to be looking their way anyway.

“It’s called a compression coil… but that’s a good point.” Simon stood as well, although he didn’t take his eyes off the mayor. “Let’s see if we can find the place with all the bikes first - even if Gunter and Jake win their gross contest, I don’t think Bonnibel would say no to a spare compression coil.”

From across the town square, the figure in white watched the two boys take off in search of their destination. Well, there’s a face he hadn’t expected to ever see again! Making sure nobody was watching him quite yet, he beckoned over a clean-cut rat man and a hulking feline that resembled a bear more than a cat.

“Ah need you boys to watch the cart a while,” the mayor said. “Ah just saw an old loose end ah gotta tie up.”

“A loose end, sir?” the massive cat asked.

“An old co-worker from less wholesome times, as it were.”

“What, that human kid with glasses?!” The clean-cut rat frowned, clearly doubting it.

”Don’t underestimate him, son. I did, an’ I wound up spendin’ five years in jail for it. An’ keep an ear out, Ah’ll be needin’ you both later to help drag him and his flunky off to the dungeon where they doubtless both belong.” He doffed his hat to the two guards, replacing it with a similar hat in a less eye-catching color from inside the cart. “Till then, gentlemen…”

And then, grabbing a dusty brown longcoat that matched his new hat, he was off. The two watched their boss blend into the afternoon market crowds, then climb swiftly onto one of the rows of scrap and head off in the direction the two boys had left.

Wow, for a dog, their boss sure was agile!


	3. Hidden Treehouses and Stinky Fish

As it turned out, the “place with the bikes” was on the outskirts of town, decaying motorcycles lying in disorderly heaps with paths formed of sheets of rusting metal weaving through them. Very few people seemed to live in this part of town - Finn supposed it was because it was harder to make a comfortable house inside a pile of motorbikes than it was in a hollowed-out car or bus.

“Y’know, we couldn’t have picked a better part of town to start looking for a hidden stash of stolen goods,” Simon said, climbing up a bike pile to reach one of the fuses they needed. “Hardly anyone around, lots of hiding places…”

“I guess, but I don’t really see any place big enough to hide a bunch of scratching posts.” Finn replied, wandering over to a pile of smaller parts. “Hey, is this one of the fuses we’re after?” Finn held up the fuse in question for Simon to see.

“Uhh… Could be. Hang on, lemme take a look…” Simon slid down the bike pile to the ground, heading over to Finn’s location. “Hmm, this one doesn’t have any identification codes on it.” Simon started digging in his bag. “I’ll check the book just to make absolute su-”

Finn rolled his eyes. _Great, he’s bringing out the book again!_ “Dude, you don’t have to check the book! It looks pretty much the same as the one you just found!”

“Yeah, but some of these things look practically identical! If we get the wrong type of fuse, Bonnie’ll chew us out and we’ll just end up back here!” Simon retorted, opening the book with one hand.

“Yeah, so why is it that you’ve only been checking the ones _I_ find?”

“C’mon, bro, it’s just ‘cause you keep finding weird fuses with no identification marks! All it means is I don’t have the serial code to go off of, so I have to-”

Finn knocked the book out of Simon’s hand.

“…Oh, yeah, that’s totally helping you not look like a meathead.” Simon rolled his eyes, then retrieved the book from the ground, brushing dirt off the cover with one hand. “What the hell is your problem, man?”

“My problem is that you’re not just being a nerd, you’re being a _really bossy_ nerd!” Finn snapped, stomping back and forth over the rusty sheet metal that made up the walkway in frustration. Weird mystery or not, Simon’s bookworm tendencies were starting to grate on his nerves again. “I coulda gathered a whole bunch of fuses by now if you didn’t insist on checking _every single one_ that I find! We could be looking for the missing gnaw-blocks and scratching posts by now, or finding my friend! Eesh, I bet _he_ wouldn’t wanna check every single fuse I find!”

“How do you _know_ he wouldn’t?” Simon retorted, then suddenly glanced downwards with wide eyes. “…Uh. Finn?”

“Because he’s a globdang _hero_ , not some nerd who can’t keep his nose out of a book for five seconds!” Finn was yelling by this point. Normally, he wouldn’t have gotten this angry about being stuck with a bossy nerd for a while, but when that was combined with the feeling that Jake had abandoned him for _Gunter_ of all people, plus the still-smarting fact that he _still_ hadn’t found Professor Coldstone… well, it was hitting a lot of Finn’s frustration buttons.

“Finn,” Simon said, carefully, through gritted teeth. “Stop. Stomping. about.“

“I CAN’T! I’M TOO MA-” An ominous groaning, much louder than the one Simon had initially heard, echoed beneath Finn’s feet. “I… that’s bad, right?”

Simon kneeled at the edge of the walkway, tapping gently on the metal with one hand and wincing at the hollow, echoing noise that followed. “Sounds like there’s a giant pit under that sheet metal. And considering how corroded the bit you’re standing on is…? Yeah, that’s kinda bad.” Simon said, getting as close to the edge of the metal path as he dared. “Try and make your way over to me. _Slowly_ , though - stomping around too hard ain’t gonna help.” Simon started digging in his bag with one hand, eventually retrieving a rope. “When you’re close enough, I’ll toss the rope, okay?”

Finn started inching slowly over to Simon’s position, wincing every time the sheet of ancient metal beneath his feet creaked and groaned. “Eesh. How did nobody notice this was so unstable before?”

Simon shrugged as he tied one end of the rope to a half-buried lamppost. “Probably because it’s somewhere quiet like this… plus, there’s the fact that, y’know, most of the people in this town are like half as big as you.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes se- _wait_ , did you seriously just call me _fat_ at a time like this?!” Finn said, incredulous.

“What?! No! You’re just physically bigger than a rat-man or a cat!… I mean, it probably doesn’t help that you’re built like a potato with legs, but I’m pretty sure that’s all _muscle_ , not fat-”

In his outrage, Finn momentarily forgot that he was on a crumbling sheet of rusted metal balanced above a pit of undisclosed depth, and stomped forward a step. “WHO ARE YOU CALLING A POTAT-” An awful crunch-creak-groan sound echoed below Finn’s feet. “…Oh. Dang. Forgot about the-”

The rusted metal below Finn’s feet crumbled away, leaving nothing between him and the blackness below.

Years of dungeon-crawling had given Finn quick reflexes, and he managed to grab ahold of the edge of the newly-made hole before falling completely into the undefined abyss below. However, this was evidently going to be a temporary solution at best, as the edge of the hole started to tear away as well. “Oh Glob oh Glob OH GLOB-”

Simon didn’t hesitate. Wrapping the free end of the rope around one hand as he moved, he dashed out onto the crumbling metal plate, diving and catching Finn’s wrist with the other hand just as Finn’s handhold broke off from the rest of the walkway.

Before either of them could say anything, there was a loud groaning as the sheet of dilapidated metal slowly started to buckle under their combined weight. Throwing caution to the wind, Simon got to his feet, yanking the other boy out of the crumbling hole with an adrenaline-fuelled burst of strength and an inspiring cry of “MOTHER-ZARKING-BUTT-STALLION-USB-DONGLE-MCRIB!”. Immediately, Finn grabbed onto the rope as well, which worked out well for him, as their half of the walkway then chose to crumble into several parts. Finn and Simon yelled in shock as they went into freefall for a moment before the rope, still tied securely, did its job in breaking their fall, leaving both boys hanging, some distance from the bottom of the chasm.

“So, uh…” Finn was the first to recover. “Can you see a way down? ‘Cause I don’t wanna climb back onto that rusty path.”

“I think I see a ledge leading down over there, but we’re gonna have to swing over to it.” Simon pointed with his free hand. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem, we just need to swing at the same time.”

“Gotcha.” Finn started putting his weight into swinging the rope. “Thanks for saving my butt up there, by the way.”

“Eh, no prob. Pretty _heroic_ , right?” Simon responded, grinning up at the other boy with a mix of playfulness and unmitigated “ha-I-totally-proved-your-previous-statement-wrong”.

Finn hesitated. Simon had just saved him from falling into a mysterious chasm, despite the fact that he’d been right in the middle of chewing him out… but his pride refused to let him outright admit the other boy had acted like a hero.“… Don’t get too ahead of yourself, dude. You’ve got _potential_ , let’s say - maybe you-” Finn made the jump for the ledge at the same time Simon did, both boys landing safely. “Maybe you can come along with on whatever adventure Professor Coldstone and I have once we meet up.”

Simon rolled his eyes, but smiled regardless as he took in their surroundings further.. “Yeah, sure, sounds good…. in the meantime, though, you wanna check out the bottom of this chasm? I think I see some stuff down there.”

“Heck yeah!” Finn replied, taking a torch out of his backpack. There was plenty of light streaming down from the hole above, but it didn’t illuminate the entire place. “How’re we gonna get out of here once we’re done checkin’ it out, though?” Finn glanced up to the hole above - if it came to it, they could probably try climbing back up the rope, but he _really_ didn’t want to trust that crumbly walkway again.

For a moment, Finn could have sworn he’d seen someone in a brown coat and hat peering through the hole, but they vanished so quickly that he brushed it off as his imagination.

“I think this ledge is actually more like a path up to the top. See-” Simon kneeled, pointing to some tracks in the dirt that were neither his nor Finn’s, “-someone’s been up and down here a few times quite recently. Can’t make out what made ‘em, though… But yeah, we’re okay for a way out.”

“Man, it’s too bad Jake isn’t here. He coulda just stretched us out no probs…” Finn mused, peering into the gloom. Somewhere below, he could hear the trickle of running water.

“I hear that.” Simon said, fishing a small electric lantern out of his own bag. ”Gunter would’ve been great to have in a place like this… I wonder how the two of them are doing with that gross challenge?…”

 

——

 

Jake stared into the mug set before him, barely able to restrain his inner smugness. He hadn’t expected Old Baxter’s challenge to be drinking the same Soda-coffee-grounds-beetle-butter-kimchi-grape-jelly-and-ham-chunk-juice cocktail he’d fabricated over a game of Card Wars a while back. Gunter would probably be disappointed that he didn’t get a chance to prove he had an iron gut in front of all these rats and cats, but no matter. He _totally_ had this in the bag.

“You’re not getting cold feet, now, are you?” Old Baxter - an aging, gingery cat man with an amiable manner -inquired, paws folded on the counter in front of him. “‘Less you want somethin’ a bit easie-” the words died on Old Baxter’s lips as Jake abruptly started knocking back the vile concoction in the mug. Evidently, he hadn’t expected Jake to drink his challenge so easily.

“HA!” Jake slammed his empty mug down on the counter, grinning despite the torment his tastebuds were currently in. “Nothin-” Jake burped loudly, then shuddered momentarily as the taste revisited his mouth. “-Nothin’ I can’t handle!”

The small crowd that had gathered cheered, and old Baxter nodded approvingly, evidently impressed too. “Not bad, son. And…” Digging under the counter for a moment, he emerged moments later with a device that vaguely resembled a pog-maker. “…That compression coil, as promised. She’s all yours! Anythin’ else you’re after while in town, boys? “

“Well, our buds are lookin’ for eight of a certain type of fuse…” Jake said as he tucked the compression coil safely somewhere in his belly fat.

“Yeah, but Simon took the book with him, and he’ll get all picky if we bring back the wrong ones.” Gunter sighed.

“You mean that human kid and his bear-hat friend, right?“ One of the bartenders - the rat girl with her head perpetually tilted to the left - inquired. “I saw ‘em pick up a High-Voltage SR-brand Mako Breaker about ten minutes ago. My sister’s got like fifty of those - tell you what, if you can do MY gross challenge, I’m sure I can get her to part with eight no sweat.”

“Meryl, nobody’s enough of a donk to take that challenge of yours.” Old Baxter intoned. “Right, boys?”

“Well, let’s see what it is first!” Gunter said, sitting down.

Meryl immediately ducked behind the counter, rummaging with purpose. “Yeah, okay, lessee if… Hey, Bax, you didn’t throw it out, did you?”

“Against my better judgement, no. Just moved it way back where I don’t have to look at it every day.” Old Baxter sighed.

“Yeah, I see it… Okay!” The rat girl rose from behind the counter, brandishing a red tin that might have been totally unassuming if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was swollen at both ends like it was about to burst. Suddenly, the entire bar fell silent, all eyes on the fabled and dreaded can of _something._

“What’s ‘Surströmming’?” Jake said, more than slightly baffled.

“You’ll see… All you gotta do is eat a spoonful of it.” Meryl said, voice tinged with borderline-sadistic glee.

Then, in the silence, Gunter spoke up.

“A _spoonful_?” the penguin practically scoffed. “Love, I’ll do you one better - I’ll eat the whole _can_.” Immediately the bar filled with shocked gasps and muttering.

“So exactly what is this stuff, anyway?” Jake said, sniffing the can as the rat girl ran off - cackling a she went - to get a can opener, and Old Baxter went to open all the windows and doors. He couldn’t smell much through the can, aside from a vague sense of foreboding.

“It’s a type of preserved fish,” Gunter said, rubbing his flippers together in anticipation. “Kind of smelly, though - Simon can’t stand it, always leaves the house when I have a can. It tastes really good, though, if you can get past the smell!”

“Eesh. I might need to sit this one out, dude - Sometimes a good sense of smell ain’t exactly useful.”

Gunter shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you’re missing out.” Taking the can opener from Meryl - who then quickly dived behind an overturned table with several other patrons, covering her nose with a tablecloth - he carefully, reverently pierced the bloated can’s top. Immediately there was a _hissss_ as pressurised fish gas escaped from the can, followed by a medley of “Eurgh!”s and “ohmyglobWHY?!”s from the nearest bar patrons and onlookers.

Jake momentarily wondered what the big fuss was.

And then, the uninhibited scent of the surströmming hit Jake’s sensitive nose like a rancid sledgehammer.

Jake gagged, his mouth watering - Nothing could have prepared him for this, not even the incident with the stench fairies. It was like rotten fish and rancid butter and decaying onions and zombie puke all at once, multiplied by a thousand! Even breathing through his mouth with his nose stretched into a knot, He could _taste_ the oppressive aroma creeping into his sinuses. He barely registered that practically everyone else in the bar was at that moment reacting in similar fashion, albeit without the stretched nose. The only exception seemed to be Gunter, who merely waved a flipper in front of his face and chuckled before beginning to eat, evidently enjoying his vile-stenched snack.

“Oh Gob, I… THE STANK IS LEAKING INTO MY BRAIN!” Jake howled, clawing at his face in anguish. “IT’S EVERYWHERE AND I CAN’T ESCAPE IT!”

“Hey, if you’re gonna puke, use the trash can!” Old Baxter managed to choke out, shoving an old wooden bucket towards Jake with his foot.

Jake, however, wasn’t going to need a puke pail of any sort, for he passed out a moment later.

 

——

 

“Wow, this place is huge!” Finn said, approaching the stream at the bottom of the chasm. ”I guess this used to be a regular old creek… Geez, all the dead plants down here make it kinda creepy.”

Simon raised his lantern, illuminating the area further. IThe withered grass and greenery dotted around the place gave him a serious “area blighted by undead” impression, although it lacked the stench of decay. All Simon could smell at present was the residual dust from the collapsing walkway.

“Yeah, looks like they put the walkway on top to make it easier to navigate through town, and all the plantlife died when the light got cut off.” Simon replied, craning his neck to try and get a better look ahead. “Hey, check it out, I think there’s even a couple of trees down here too!“

Finn shone his torch down the path, and sure enough, there were two dusty-looking, long-dead trees, bark peeling in places.

The largest one was also host to a shelter built of scrap metal and wood. One could almost call it a _treehouse._

“Aw geez!”

Simon inwardly groaned. _Please tell me he doesn’t seriously think that’s Professor Coldstone’s house._

“What if that’s Professor Coldstone’s house?”

_…Guess he does._

“Seriously? You don’t think he’d _say_ if he lived in an artificial cave under Junkyard Town?” Simon said, following Finn as he made a beeline for the trees. “I mean, it’s a pretty memorable house location… Plus, it looks pretty abandoned to me.”

Finn made it to the steps up to the treehouse door before Simon did. “I guess… but we should check it out anyway, just to see if anyone DOES live down here, right?”

Simon groaned, but followed him up the stairs regardless - truth be told, he was interested in checking out the treehouse as well, but not for the same reasons as Finn. Why would someone go to the trouble of building a house in a hidden cave under the town? Was someone hiding down here, or was it just the work of some inventive kids who’d decided to make a secret clubhouse? “Why would someone want to live in a beat-up old place on a dead tree in a cave, though? Doesn’t look like anyone’s home, either way.”

Finn rolled his eyes - Simon’s constant poking holes in his reasoning was starting to annoy him. Couldn’t he let him at least _hope_ that Professor Coldstone lived there? It was like he didn’t want him to find his friend. _Does he think I’m gonna abandon him as soon as I find Prof. Coldstone or something? Eesh, maybe he really IS kind of like Ice King…_

That said, however, there was no light to be seen through the door’s window, nor through the gaps in the metal. A tug on the handle confirmed the door was locked, leaving Finn to shine his torch through the grimy door window as he peered inside the building.

He didn’t see Professor Coldstone, but… _well._ This was more than a little interesting.

“…We’ve gotta get inside here.” Finn said, pulling on the door handle again in vain. “Did you see any windows on the way up the stairs?”

“What? I don’t think so, why do you…” Simon trailed off as Finn, spying a section of corrugated iron wall that seemed less attached to the treehouse than the other parts, wedged his torch in his belt loop and started nudging the section in question with his foot. “Finn, what are you even doing?”

“We’ve gotta get in there. Trust me.” Finn responded, tugging on the loose sheet of metal. Simon was gonna _love_ this…

“Are you— _Finn!_ Quit it!” Simon hissed, hanging his lantern on a protruding branch.”You can’t just rip off part of the wall and walk in uninvited!”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you’ll forgive me in a second.” Finn said, focusing more on the task at hand than Simon, who, from the corner of his eye, looked to be giving the door another try. “I mean, geez, sometimes heroes have to do stuff like thi-”

There was a _creeeaaaak_ sound from Simon’s position. Turning his attention away from the loose wall, Finn looked over to see Simon holding the door open.

“I don’t think it was locked at all, bro. Just needed a little love.” Simon shrugged, adjusting his waistcoat with his free hand.

Finn could have kicked himself. Not just because he had been so sure it was locked, but because he suddenly realized that he’d been trying to open the door the wrong way! _Well done, Finn! Way to not make yourself look like the meathead he’s been calling you!_

If Simon had noticed the source of Finn’s door problems, however, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he, like Finn, was suddenly very interested in the contents of the treehouse, grabbing his lantern and stepping inside. Finn, pulling his torch from his belt loop, followed, silently hoping he’d seen what was inside correctly through the grimy window.

As it turned out, he had. laying in piles within the makeshift dwelling were blocks of brightly colored wood in various states of mastication - _gnaw-blocks!_ \- and wooden scratching posts with ragged carpet tied around them. Evidently, they had found the thief’s stash house.

“…Well dang. I guess we do have a reason to be looking in here.” Simon said. He raised his lantern and looked around with a low whistle. “Eeesh. There’s more posts AND blocks in here than I think there are people in the town - although I guess that makes sense if he wants to re-sell ‘em to people without suspicion.”

Finn nodded, poking his head and torch into an adjacent room, which turned out to be full of dusty rolls of carpet. “Hey, check out all this stuff! I guess he replaces the covers on some of the posts when they get too shredded… I wonder how he fixes the gnaw-blocks?”

“I don’t think he even bothers - I mean, people would probably notice if he used something gross like paste and sawdust.” Simon responded. “You see any desks or notebooks in there? If we’re really lucky, and if it IS O’Malley doing this, we might find some of his notes and skip the whole searching-his-office step entirely.”

Finn shone his torch around the carpet room. “I don’t see any desks or books…” his torchlight fell on a box in the dustiest corner of the room, full of spare parts. “Hey, I found some fuses, though!”

“Please tell me you’re seriously not thinking of stealing the fuses from that box.” Simon said as Finn stepped over a carpet roll to get to the corner. “Doesn’t exactly go along with the whole “stealing is wrong” theme we’ve got going here…“

“Dude, it’s not like people are gonna notice them missing, except the thief… just think of it as dungeon loot.” Finn responded. “Unless you wanna spend a full day digging through rusty junk and checking the book a hundred more times….”

Simon opened his mouth, then hesitated for a moment. “…Okay, yeah, good point. Grab that thing with the blue logo on it as well- that’s a compression coil.”

Finn added the device to his armful of fuses. “Huh. Looks kind of like a pog maker.”

“Hey, yeah, I think I see it t-”

A sudden _creak_ from outside the shack, too loud to be much else than someone stepping on one of the numerous rickety boards that made up the staircase, interrupted their conversation.

“I heard it.” Finn whispered. “You think that’s-”

Simon, putting a finger to his mouth, crept silently towards the door, apparently intent on either identifying the stalker outside or getting the jump on him. As he watched the other boy sneak over the rickety timbers of the floor and towards the open door without so much as a tiny squeaking noise, Finn had to admit it- for such a nerdy kid, Simon was _very_ good at sneaking about….

However, it seemed that moving quietly wasn’t exactly useful when there was only one way out of the room, for as soon as Simon set a foot out of the door, he was wrenched out of view with a loud yelp. As the sounds of a struggle errupted outside, Finn, wasting no time, dropped the spare parts and hurdled the carpet roll as he drew his sword, intent on saving Simon from his ambusher.

As Finn dashed outside, he briefly caught a glimpse of Simon struggling with a clean-cut rat-man before getting struck heavily in the arm by a massive paw, right on the nerve. With one of Finn’s arms rendered mostly numb, his huge, feline assailant had little to no trouble wrenching the demonsblood sword from his grasp. Finn wasn’t about to give up, though, and lashed out with the arm that still had feeling in it, finding purchase on his attacker’s neck before the massive cat managed to grab first his working arm, then the other, holding them behind Finn’s back in a grip of steel. Looking over, Finn realized that Simon was in a similar position, although from the way he was trying to see behind them, he currently seemed more interested in who else might be with their captors.

As it turned out, there was someone else.

“See, what’d I tell ya, boys?” The tall, coat-and-hatted figure of the mayor made his way leisurely up the staircase, removing his hat to reveal a gingery, canine face with an oddly feline countenance. ”We all just caught us the two thieves who’ve been sneakin’ away with the town’s scratchin’ posts and gnawblocks! An’ I must say…” The mayor shot a pointed glance over at Simon, who suddenly seemed very preoccupied with the floorboards. “…Ah wasn’t expectin’ to ever see _you_ again, boy.”

“WHAT?!” Finn yelled, attempting to jerk free of the grasp of his gargantuan captor. “We so did not steal those, we just found out where the real thief was keeping them!” Finn bit back the urge to add ‘and by real thief, I mean YOU!’

“Let him go, O’Malley.” Simon said, not breaking eye contact with the floor. “He only came to Uuu last night, how could he have stolen all of those posts and blocks?”

Finn nodded, catching on to Simon’s plan- if one of them could stay out of jail, they could prove the other’s innocence, or, failing that, spring the other free! “Yeah, dude, I’m from an entire other dimension! I couldn’t have stolen those things even if I’d wanted to!”

O’Malley, standing between the two boys, clicked his teeth in disapproval. “Well, ya got a point, boy, but see… We overheard y’all talkin’ about stealin’ a bunch of fuses while ya were in that safehouse of yours, an’ it sure sounded like you was doin’ the plannin’ for that job. So if y’all think we’re settin’ ya free after us hearin’ that, guess again!”

Finn groaned, but decided to keep with this angle - If he couldn’t stay out of jail, he was just going to have to trust in Simon… even if he was mostly hoping he’d go and fetch Jake to help bust him out. “Okay, fine, but you heard Simon telling me off for trying to take the fuses as well, right?”

“Didn’t he, like, wind up going along with you, though?” the clean-cut rat-man interjected.

“Dude, that was just because of peer pressure!” Finn responded, grinning. “I’ve had to put up with this guy all day, and he’s not got an unlawful bone in his body! He wouldn’t even let me pick up a single fuse without checking his guidebook! Plus, well, he kinda saved my butt. He doesn’t belong in jail - heck, he’s practically _hero_ material!” He glanced over at Simon, who was staring back at him with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude, although he still looked pretty worried. “He doesn’t belong in jail!”

O’Malley raised an eyebrow at Finn’s small speech. For a moment, Finn thought he was buying it.

Then the dog threw his head back and _laughed._

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA! Son, you sure as hell ain’t from around here if you think that little crook don’t belong in jail!” Simon flinched, as if the words were a physical blow. “See, me an’ Simon here go way, way back-” Finn wasn’t entirely surprised by the fact the mayor knew Simon’s name, since Simon had known his, but he had wondered about the context… “-back when I wasn’t the respectable gent you see before you today. Oh, I make no secret of my less reputable days, they’re behind me, after all! An’ you know how many houses that boy helped me rob in those disreputable days? Dozens! And then the little weasel and his brother double-crossed me and left me to rot in jail, doin’ who knows what with the loot!”

“Oh come ON!” Finn yelled. “Have you MET Simon? He’s a bossy egghead, not some sort of no-good backstabbing thief!” Finn glanced over to Simon, who was still looking at the ground, a look of utter misery on his face. “Besides, like I said before, this kid’s not got an unlawful bone in his body, right, Simon?”

Silence.

“…Simon?”

Finn looked over again. Simon didn’t respond, his eyes closed now, with the same expression as before. He didn’t get it - why wouldn’t Simon want to defend himself against crazy accusations like this?

Then Finn realized.

“…Oh my Glob. It’s _true_ , isn’t it.”

It wasn’t even a question. Slowly, shakily, Simon nodded.

“Told ya, son.” O’Malley leaned over to Finn’s ear, stage-whispering conspiratorially as Finn glared at Simon. ”Heck, chances are, he was countin’ on you to do the same thing I did for him- take the fall for his crimes an’ get off scott free.”

Simon suddenly snapped out of his misery trance. “What?! No!” He struggled against his captor again, without much success. “I didn’t- not since- Finn, he’s talking bunk! I wouldn’t!”

Despite Simon’s protestations, this made a frightening amount of sense to Finn- why else would he not want to find Professor Coldstone, and scoff at the idea of hanging around with someone as cool as him?

_He’s probably tangled with him before,_ Finn thought bitterly. _Or he’s so well-known for being a crook that Professor Coldstone would recognize him immediately._

”Cryin’ shame, that’s what it is, “O’Malley continued. ”Ah well, some folks just can’t change their nature, no matter how hard they try!”

“I-” Simon didn’t get a chance to finish, as Finn, seething, broke free from his captor’s grasp and punched him in the face with a yell.

“ _I should’ve known!!_ ”

The force of the blow not only cracked the left lens of Simon’s glasses, but sent both him and the rat-man holding his arms flying to the floor, papers from Simon’s bag scattering as they toppled.

No, not papers, Finn realized. _Letters?_ He picked one up.

_To Professor Coldstone._

_I found your letter in Princess Bubblegum’s dimensional fridge thing! PB says I can use the fridge to write you back…_

Finn remembered this letter. He’d been hanging out at Tree Trunks’ house when he wrote it. It even still had the sticky patch on the back where Jake had splattered apple pie on it. Glancing around at the other letters, he recognized other identifying marks- the scorched corner from showing Flame Princess the third letter, the doodles he’d drawn on the sixth letter…

Unfortunately, before Finn could punch Simon further and question him about this (in that order), the ursine cat-man decided to ensure Finn didn’t try to get away from him again. Grabbing the demonsblood sword he’d wrestled from him a minute before, he struck a blow to the back of the boy’s head with the weapon’s hilt.

Finn was unconscious before he hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Search Youtube for Surströmming to see REAL people reeling from the stench of fermented fish. And to be very glad that we can't send smells over the internet yet.
> 
> I have no idea if dogs find the smell of that stuff repellant in real life, but if Jake is especially grossed out by Ice King's filthy clothes hamper due to a good sense of smell, I'm guessing that he'd have trouble with THE MOST PUTRID FOOD SMELL IN THE WORLD.)


	4. Real Talk between jailbirds and magic talking animals

Jake woke up. His head was swimming, and someone was poking at his ear.

Traces of the rancid fishy stench were still lingering in his senses, but the stench level was at least tolerable at this point. Blearily, he opened his eyes, realizing quickly that he was still in the bar, seated at a table next to an open window. And that the person poking at his ear was Gunter, mug of drink in his free wing.

“Gnn… knock that off, dude.” Jake grumbled, lightly swatting Gunter’s flipper away as he sat up, rubbing his head. “Eeesh. Remind me never to stick around when someone brings out a can of that stuff again!”

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Gunter said cheerfully. “I’m glad you’re awake - Ol’ Baxter was so impressed with me eating that whole can that he offered us free drinks for the night on top of the compression coil and fuses, and it’d be a shame if you missed it!”

“It’s mostly ‘cause he drank the juice from the can as well,” Ol’ Baxter interjected from his spot behind the bar. “Took most of the smell with it, and since it was in danger of scarin’ away our customers otherwise, I figured you both deserved it.”

Jake accepted the mug of rootbeer being offered to him by Gunter, taking a few big gulps in an attempt to wash the rotten-fish smell from his palate. “Thanks. How long was I out?”

“Two or three hours,” Gunter replied, lifting his mug to his beak. “Simon hasn’t shown up at the signpost yet… Truth be told, I’m a bit worried. I thought he’d have at least checked the meeting spot to see if we were waiting by now… unless he’s hiding for some reason, I suppose.”

“Eh, he’ll be fine.” Jake said between gulps of root beer. “He’s got Finn with him, anyway. You should have more faith in your bro, though!”

“I guess I’m just used to worrying about him, I guess - I know he can take care of himself, really - he’s a smart kid, and he’s fought his way out of some seriously tough scrapes before, but sometimes he’ll make really reckless moves… like setting up an ambush if he hears people in the house. Plus, with his guilt issues and all… “ Gunter sighed, gazing into his mug. ”Ohh, but you’re right, I really do need to have more faith in him. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to get in any trouble just wandering about the town, right?”

 

——-

 

Finn woke to darkness and a pounding headache. He sat up, rubbing his head as he squinted to take in his surroundings. A small, grimy cell, free of all furnishing except a pile of straw that smelled as if it’d been down there for quite some time. _Probably the town jail_ , Finn thought. Unlike the rest of the town, it seemed that the jail was mostly made from good old fashioned stone and mortar, probably because it was too easy to break through the walls of even the most fortified of rusty car-buildings. Somewhere in the distance, Finn could make out a slow, rhythmic rasping noise.

It was then that he realized they’d taken his backpack, his sword _and_ his shoes. He really hoped they hadn’t tossed out his stuff - not only was there a family heirloom that was also an incredibly powerful weapon at stake, but his letters to Professor Coldstone were in his backpack!

_Not like there’s gonna be any chance of me getting to see him in here_ , Finn bitterly mused as he got to his feet. _Stupid alternate universe, stupid alternate mail-stealing Ice King, stupid me for being a sucker and trusting him to not be a patoot…_

Finn focused on sizing up the door, which was solid wood bound with scrap metal, a barred window gracing the upper half. He didn’t think he’d have much luck breaking it down, but he had to _try_.

_THUD!_

Finn bounced off the door, his shoulder now aching in tandem with his head. _Don’t tell me they actually went to the trouble of making these dungeon doors out of stonewood or something!_

“Don’t bother trying to break the door down,” a familiar, tired-sounding voice said, from what sounded like the cell next door. “‘m pretty sure it’s made of stonewood.”

Finn’s insides _boiled_ with rage on hearing that voice. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Simon responded. “Look, I-”

“Don’t speak to me, okay?” Finn snapped. “You’ve messed up enough stuff already!”

“I know, I just-”

“You just _what_? Do you really think you have a good excuse for trying to frame me for those posts and blocks?”

“I didn’t steal those!” Simon protested. “And-”

“You know what? I don’t believe you. Why should I? Heck, you stole my letters from Professor Coldstone as well, you’ve probably jacked him up too! Did you frame him for junk he never did, or just beat him up and steal his stuff?”

“But-”

“You know what?” Finn continued. ”I take it back. You’re not like the Ice King at all. He’s a patoot, sure, but at least he’s like that because he’s messed up. You’re just a _lousy crook_ who-”

“OKAY, FINE, I GET IT!” Simon shrieked all of a sudden. Finn was briefly stunned into silence - not just because of the intensity, but because for a moment, thanks to the mix of anger and frustration and distress behind it,he’d sounded a _little too much_ like Ice King for comfort. “I GET IT, I’M A NO GOOD CROOK WITH A SHADY PAST, A SHAM AS A HERO AND JUST GENERALLY A REALLY AWFUL PERSON, OKAY? I DON’T NEED ANYONE ELSE TELLING ME THAT, I _KNOW_ , AND I TELL MYSELF ALL THAT STUFF ALL THE TIME! BUT I DIDN’T STEAL ANY SCRATCHING POSTS OR GNAW-BLOCKS, I _DEFINITELY_ DIDN’T FRAME YOU, AND I DIDN’T STEAL ANY FREAKING LETTERS!”

Finn found his voice, and _then_ some. “THEN WHY THE CRUB DID YOU HAVE PROFESSOR COLDSTONE’S LETTERS IN YOUR BAG?”

“BECAUSE I _AM_ PROFESSOR COLDSTONE, YOU FREAKIN’ MEATHEAD!” Simon responded, this time with less distress and more anger and frustration.

“I—-” What Simon had just said registered with Finn. “Wait. You-? But-”

“Seriously, are you that much of a poo-brain or was I just _that much_ of a letdown? I said I live in a treehouse near the Monster Kingdom in Letter Six, and it’s not like there are _any_ other treehouses in that area!” It sounded like Simon was gritting his teeth as he continued. “ I figured that’d be a dead giveaway, but nooo, you _seriously_ _thought_ that weird underground treehouse was the real Professor Coldstone’s house…”

Finn paused before answering, thinking back to that moment in the treehouse when Jake had turned the light on. “…I guess I knew all along, really. I just kinda didn’t let myself believe it, cause, y’know…”

“Oh Glob.” Simon groaned. “Was the nerd thing _really_ that hard to swallow?”

“I… Yeah.” Finn admitted, sinking into a sitting position on the pile of straw.. “I dunno, I guess I was expecting someone more…”

“…Meatheaded?” Simon finished. Somewhere outside, Finn heard the shuffling of feet and the click of a door, likely a guard making their rounds. “Bro, there’s more than one way to skin an evil bear - the fast-and-smart method is workin’ out for me just fine. But, if it makes you feel better, even though you’re a bit of a meathead, you’re still pretty much the awesome hero you made yourself out to be in those letters. “ An apple went sailing through the barred window of the door to land at Finn’s feet. Finn didn’t bother looking up, figuring it was just feeding time for the prisoners. ”Me… well, like I wrote, I did some stuff I’m not proud of- helped a bunch of thieves when I was, like, six-  and it came back and bit us _both_ on the butt today. I’m really sorry you got dragged into this… I guess I really _am_ just a lousy crook.“

“So why did you even agree to help those guys?” Finn said, munching on the apple. “I mean, I don’t know the whole story here, just that you helped that O’Malley guy rob houses and framed him for it later. Spill, dude.”

Simon sighed heavily. “I guess it’s about time I told someone this story. Okay, so. Back when I was a little kid, Gunter used to hang out with a rough crowd. I don’t think he knew it was wrong back then, but… I’m getting off track. Anyway, I’d occasionally tag along, even though Gunter always told me not to… I guess I just thought they were his cool friends.” Finn raised an eyebrow at the revelation that Gunter, like Jake, had a shady past. _I guess they have even more in common than just both being magical…._

 

——

 

“You hung out with guys like that too?” Jake said, starting on his fifth drink, a sticky concoction that Ol’ Baxter had claimed to be made of tree sap. It was surprisingly good, but it struck Jake as something too sweet to drink more than one of in a row. “I left my old gang after I realized it was wrong, though…”

“Yeah, I hear that… I had to learn that the hard way. Poor Simon…”

“Wait, _Simon_ got dragged into your gang stuff?!” Jake spluttered. “Why’d you even let him in on that??”

“I didn’t _let_ him, he kept following me. It wasn’t actually as bad as it sounds… at least until he got pally with a dog bloke named O’Malley. I didn’t know why he took an interest in Simon at the time, but…”

 

——

 

“…Then one day, this one dog guy called O’Malley sees me messing around with a puzzle cube while I’m sitting around their safehouse, and he’s all ‘Hey, kid, you’ve got agile human hands, wanna learn how to pick locks? I bet you’d be crazy good at it!’… He just. Didn’t tell me I was practicing on houses that weren’t his. Rrgh, I still feel like such a donk for falling for that!“ Simon growled.

“You were _six_ , dude.” Finn responded. “You didn’t really know what you were doing. What happened when you found out?” Finn had just finished off the apple when a small carton of bug milk came tumbling through the window and landed on the straw next to him. _Wow, that’s pretty risky prison food,_ Finn mused as he opened the carton. _What if someone tried to escape into the Nightosphere with their drink?_

“I told him I didn’t wanna do it any more, duh.” Simon said. “Of course, then he pointed out that I’d go to jail if anyone found out and I’d be forever known as a big crook and my parents wouldn’t love me anymore, and that if I stopped doing it he’d rat me out.”

“Geez, what a butt!” Finn made a mental note to punch O’Malley right in the face the next time he saw him. What kind of jerk would tell a six year old kid _that_?! “So what did you do?”

“I didn’t know _what_ to do at first.” Simon replied. “I just went home and panicked until Gunter found me…”

 

——

_Gunter cheerfully knocked on the door to his brother’s room. “Simon, Dad said if you don’t come down to dinner soon I can have all your hash browns!”_

_No response. That was odd - Normally, any threat to eat Simon’s hash browns resulted in him rushing out and yelling. He knew Simon was in his room - he’d heard the door slam shut earlier._

_“…Simon?” Gunter gently pushed the door open, expecting Simon to loudly protest Gunter barging in on him while he was trying to read or put together some pre-mushroom-war gadget or make sculptures with his baby teeth again. Instead, Simon was lying curled up on his bed, facing the wall. “C’mon, wake up, Dad’s made your favori-”_

_“‘M not hungry. And anyway, I… I don’t deserve hash browns, either.”  Simon mumbled, his voice cracking on the last part._

_Gunter frowned, approaching the bed. “What do you mean, you don’t deserve hash browns?” He’d seen Simon upset before, sure, but never so upset that he’d turn down one of his favorite foods. “What’s going on, Simon?”_

_For a moment, there was no response, aside from Simon curling in on himself further slightly. “I-I did bad things,” he sobbed. “I’m a bad person and I’m gonna go to jail! I_ deserve _to go to jail! I’m a criminal! I’m sorry, Gunter, I didn’t mean to!”_

_“Simon, it’s okay. Calm down, alright?” Gunter hopped onto the bed and pulled his human brother into a hug, which Simon returned with the ferocity that only an incredibly upset child can muster. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”_

_“But it IS!” Simon wept into Gunter’s feathers. “Mr O’Malley said if I stopped he’d call the cops on me, but I can’t keep doing it, that’s even worse!…”_

_“O’Malley?” Gunter had noticed the two of them had become quite chummy lately, but had thought nothing of it. He’d just assumed O’Malley was telling him old heist stories again. “What’s O’Malley got to do with this?” He wiped the tears from Simon’s eyes, sitting down on the bed beside him. “I want you to take a deep breath and start from the beginning, okay? I promise I won’t get angry, whatever’s happened…”_

 

——-

 

“…So then he finally gets it out that O’Malley taught him how to pick locks by tricking him into breaking into houses for him - claimed the houses were all his - and then, when the penny dropped, he told Simon that he’d frame him for the break-ins if he stopped doing it.” Gunter said, head in flippers.

Jake gaped. He’d hung around with some shady characters in his time- his old gang came to mind- but he couldn’t think of anybody who would stoop that low… well, there was one guy who acted like he would have, but he never did. “Tell me this ends in you kicking this guy’s butt a lot…”

“Figuratively, it does, but ohhh, I wish I had _literally_ kicked his butt.” Gunter said as Meryl approached them with their fresh drinks. “But Simon insisted we do it his way, and I didn’t really feel like arguing with him over it, especially after how upset he’d been.”

“How did Simon want to handle it?“ Jake asked.

 

——-

 

“So how did you end up dealing with him?” Finn asked, sipping the bug milk gingerly - he’d never been very big on bug milk, more due to the thicker texture than the taste. It was like drinking a weird syrup flavored to taste exactly like milk.

“Wasn’t exactly the most complicated plan, to be honest.” Simon responded, peering through the cell door window. “After unlocking the door for the next house, I just re-locked the door after O’Malley went in and signalled for Gunter to call for the town guards. They found him with his hand in a jewelry drawer and dragged his butt off to jail, leaving me and Gunter to pick through his notes and work out where he’d stashed the rest of the loot.”

“What did you end up doing with all that stolen stuff?” Finn winced at the state Simon was in- not only had his punch cracked Simon’s glasses, but there was a very colorful bruise blossoming around the other boy’s eye (although the eye itself was unscathed, probably because his glasses had taken most of the blow). From what he’d heard, he was more than certain that Simon hadn’t deserved that punch in the face. “I’m guessing you didn’t sell it.”

“Heck no!” Simon exclaimed. “We just left it all in town square one night while it was quiet. I think most of the people worked out what stuff belonged to who…” Simon sunk out of sight. “I hope so, anyway. I guess that’s part of the reason I started with the hero biz- tryin’ to make up for messing up so badly like that. That and it just feels good to help people, y’know?”

“I feel you,” Finn responded. “But the way you were talking earlier, it sounded like you still do criminal stuff. What’s up with that?”

Simon sighed. “Lots of stuff. Remember that thing with the hydra I told you about in letter four?” Finn did. After trying to reason with it, then many attempts to slay it, Simon had eventually resorted to turning it into stone and smashing it. “Well, that Rod of Medusa I used wasn’t exactly mine. And I didn’t exactly have enough time to ask the museum if I could borrow it- the hydra was almost to the monster kingdom’s tar pits, and… well, fire breathing monster plus flammable tar equals a bad combination. What’s worse is, it disintegrated after I used it, so I couldn’t even return it later! I felt like such a donk.”

“I’m pretty sure the museum would have let it slide. Especially if they were in danger of getting set on fire as well.” Finn said. Slowly, a lot of Simon’s behavior was starting to make a little more sense - his dismay at the idea of stealing the fuses from the treehouse, for one thing.

“I guess. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg… Some weeks, it seems like I can’t save anyone without breaking some sort of rule.” Simon groaned. “Why is it so hard to stay lawful??”

“I think you’re overthinking things, dude. And for the record,“ Finn said, “if you can think of _any_ way to bust us out of this dungeon, even if it’s ‘unlawful’ or whatever, I’m totally down for it.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something.” Simon replied, reappearing at the cell door window. “Hey, is there any of that bug milk left? I’m kinda thirsty.”

“Yeah, help yourself,” Finn said, holding up the carton to the window. “I’m not really big on bug milk anyw- _wait_.” Something had just occurred to Finn. “…How did you get right outside my cell door?”

In response, the cell door swung open. Simon stood there grinning ear to ear, holding Finn’s backpack in one hand and what appeared to be a small leather wallet in the other.

“So you just totally forgot about the part of that story where I learned to pick locks, huh?” Simon chuckled, tossing Finn his backpack. “Don’t worry - O’Malley must have forgotten as well, otherwise he’d have searched me properly.” He briefly held the small wallet open to reveal a set of lockpicks before tucking it neatly into his waistcoat. “Sorry I couldn’t find your sword, bro - I think that big monster cat guard took a liking to it.”

“You sneaky butt!” Finn _laughed_. “How long were you out there?”

“Since right before I tossed you that apple.” Simon replied, stepping inside the cell and picking up the bug milk. “I would’ve let you know earlier, but the conversation got kinda heavy, and it would’ve been weird to interrupt it like that.”

“You’ve kinda got a point there.” Finn admitted. “So you think we can sneak out of here okay?”

“The only guards I’ve seen are the rat guy and the cat-bear-type dude, and while I can hear one of ‘em snoring from here-” _So that’s what that raspy noise is,_ Finn thought,  “-we’re probably gonna have to beat up someone on our way out of here.” Simon rubbed at his temples, a gesture that once again briefly reminded Finn of Ice King (Although he was pretty sure that whatever Simon’s plan was, it was probably more sensible than anything Ice King could cook up.) “Got any ideas?”

“I could lure one of ‘em down here. Then you could take ‘em by surprise.” Finn suggested, remembering Simon’s ambush in the treehouse. He seemed the type to favor the element of surprise.

“I’d have to check for good hiding spots, but yeah, I think that’s where my train of thought was goin’.” Simon nodded, taking a swig of bug milk as he opened the cell door again, stepping into the corridor. “By the way, it might be easier if you just go upstairs and tell ‘em their doors aren’t strong enough, then you can just let him chase you down he-” Simon, not looking where he was going, practically walked into the massive cat-man, who also wasn’t looking where he was going.

A lot of things happened very quickly.

Simon recovered first, leaping back with a startled cry of “WOWZERS!”, followed by the monstrous feline lunging forward for the escapee, hand on the hilt of his new weapon. Finn, not wasting any time, darted out of the open cell door as soon as the big cat-man was within range, delivering a hard elbow to the gut that caused him to double over in pain. Simon, seizing his chance, tossed the remainder of the bug milk into the monster cat’s eyes. Blinded and winded, the bear-like cat was unprepared for Finn striking him with a crushing blow to the jaw, followed by Simon swinging his nunchucks into the other side of his face. with a thunderous crash, the gigantic cat-man fell to the floor unconscious.

Finn was the first one to break the silence. “…’Wowzers’? _Really_? That’s so _nerdy_ _._ ”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Oh come ON. What would you have said, then?”

“I dunno, ‘algebraic’?” Finn suggested, pulling his demonsblood sword from the bear-like cat-man’s belt. “How about ‘mathmatical’? That’s a good one.”

Simon laughed. “Math terminology? Seriously, how is that _less_ nerdy?”

Finn was about to explain exactly why words like ‘rhombus’ and ’algebraic’ weren’t nerdy when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. “Nick, what’s goin’ on down there?” the voice of the clean-cut ratman echoed down the stairwell. “You better not be just trying to wake me up again!”

Simon stepped back into the open cell again, putting a hand to his mouth and winking. Finn grinned, having a pretty good idea what Simon was up to. “Hey, your bud decided he wanted to go to take a nap as well!” Finn called out just as the rat man reached the bottom of the stairs. “So you can just go back to sleep and not worry about me escaping!”

“How in the heck did you get out, kid?” The rat exclaimed, pulling out what looked suspiciously like a tazer to Finn.

“Your doors _suck_ , dude.” Finn said, stepping back as the rat-man advanced on him, probably-a-tazer at the ready. “Why make ‘em out of stonewood if the locks just fall apart?”

“You’re gonna be fallin’ apart in a minute, kid, if you don’t get back in that cell!” As the rat-man passed the open cell door, Simon silently stepped out behind him, nunchucks at the ready. “Though I gotta say, wasn’t expecting it to be you who tried to make a break for it. Even Mayor O’Malley told us to keep an eye on the runty kid, not y-AAGH!” Simon, seeing his chance, struck out at the back of the clean-cut rat’s head, sending him staggering and making him drop his weapon. Lunging forward, Finn delivered a second blow to the rat-man’s skull with the hilt of his own weapon, knocking him out and to the floor with his massive companion.

“Nice!” Simon said, stepping gingerly around the prone form of the giant cat-man and towards the exit. “Now let’s scram before we have to knock out anyone else! I think I remember the way out from when we got dragged in.”

“Wait, I need my shoes!” Finn said, looking up and down the corridor.

“I shoved ‘em in your backpack - trust me, don’t bother till we’re out of town.” Simon responded, motioning for Finn to follow him.

“You got both my socks too, right?” Finn asked. He remembered the gross foot rash he’d gotten the last time he’d lost a sock, and while he’d taken to carrying a spare around with him since then, he didn’t want to lose any socks.

“Yeah, but this _really_ isn’t the time to be worrying about socks!” Simon hissed as they climbed the staircase.

“No, seriously, last time I lost a sock, I got this super-gross foot rash that-”

“I’m more worried about Gunter and Jake,” Simon interrupted Finn before he could go into the story further. “O’Malley might realize Gunter’s here and target him next, and if Jake tries to back him up, he’ll get involved too.”

“Good point.” Finn hadn’t had a chance to think about Jake or Gunter yet. While he knew Jake could handle himself, and he had a sneaking suspicion Gunter was just as capable in a fight, he didn’t like the idea of them both getting tossed in jail like Simon and himself. “We’ve gotta go warn ‘em before those two jerks downstairs wake up and-”

“An’ what, boy?” a familiar voice said as they stepped into the small office between them and outside. It seemed that O’Malley had heard the fight downstairs, and had come to investigate. He was currently standing between them and the front door. “Y’all are gonna be back in those cells before those two idiots get a chance to wake up anyhow.”

Simon glared over his fractured glasses at the tall dog. “Like heck are we going back down there so you can keep your nose clean! Get outta the way.”

O’Malley emitted a snort so derisive it could have probably manifested as flame if he’d put any more effort into it. “Don’t think so, son. Gotta say, though-” O’Malley lifted his hat’s brim slightly, fixing Simon with a gaze that has half predatory, half something approaching approval. “-you’re barely in jail a day before making a break for it. Heck, even _I_ did my time, boy- not exactly law-abidin’ to break out of jail, is it?” Finn glanced over at Simon, whose determined glare was slowly turning into a horrified stare. “Still can’t stop bein’ a little crook, no matter how hard y-”

_“DON’T TALK ABOUT MY FRIEND THAT WAY!”_

The force of the punch Finn landed on O’Malley made the blow he’d landed on Simon earlier look like a love tap, sending him flying into the wall. Grabbing Simon’s wrist- Simon seemed to have frozen up just a little for a moment- Finn charged out the door before O’Malley could recover, Simon stumbling behind him before finding his feet and running alongside him.

“S-sorry about that,” Simon said shakily. The sun was starting to set, and thankfully there were less people around as the two of them dashed to the path on which they’d entered town.

“It’s okay!” Finn replied as they passed the “WELCOME 2 JUNKYARD TOWN” sign. In truth, Finn was pretty concerned about Simon’s reaction, but he didn’t have time to address it. “Can you see Gunter or Jake? I don’t think we’re gonna have time to stop and find them!”

“Don’t think so. They weren’t at the signpost or outside that bar. Don’t worry, if Gunter finds out O’Malley’s in charge of the town, he’ll make sure to get Jake and himself outta there.” Simon hurdled a half-buried car as they rounded a corner. ”For now? Let’s just worry about getting _ourselves_ outta town!“

Finn nodded. “Yeah, they’ll have less chance of finding us in the forest…”

 

——-

 

O’Malley wasn’t sure how long he’d been out, but by the time he woke, it was dark outside.

The dog staggered to his feet, fetching his hat from where it had fallen on the way. Mentally, he cursed himself for forgetting about the punchy nature of Simon’s weird-hatted new friend - he hadn’t expected him to take Simon’s side so easily after earlier, but it certainly wasn’t inconceivable.

He quickly pushed thoughts of Simon’s new cohort out of his mind as he put his hat on, narrowing his eyes as he glowered out of the still-open door. The two boys were likely long gone by now, pointless to pursue. _No matter,_ he thought as he headed outside. _He probably didn’t have time to pick up his fat brother._

Sticking a claw in his mouth, he realized with a grimace that Finn had knocked a tooth loose. _Kid must’ve been angry he didn’t have all his own teeth or somethin’…_

He didn’t bother checking on the likely-still-unconscious guards downstairs. They could both bleed out for all he cared. He had something more important to take care of.

At least it wouldn’t be hard to find a penguin in a city full of cats and rats.


	5. Bad camping spots and great nights out

The forested valley that was home to Junkyard Town was also host to an uncommonly large number of decaying remnants of the Mushroom War. many had been mostly rusted or eroded away, and some had been swallowed entirely by the forest over the centuries, but in other places, pockets of magic had left them remarkably well preserved, if still extensively overgrown.

One of these was half of some kind of large aircraft, which had been partially engulfed by the roots of a dark-needled, smoky-grey-barked type of pine tree, and to Finn and Simon, after a lot of bare-footed running, the insides looked as an ideal a campsite as any.

“There’s not anyone already living in here, right?” Finn panted, pushing back the ferns that obscured the entrance. “I don’t wanna bust in on anyone while they’re having dinner...” He dug around in his backpack, probably looking for his shoes. Or maybe a spare torch, as Simon knew for a fact their torches had been left behind in the underground treehouse.

“I don’t think so.” Simon replied, cracking a liquid candle from his own bag, casting a sickly green light around them. “It’s pretty perfect, as far as hiding places go - I guess nobody noticed the insides were all intact despite the tree.” Simon sat down on a rusting crate, sniffing the air- there was an oily, astringent smell permeating the air that he couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Finn replied, sitting down on the crate beside Simon as he dug through his backpack, pulling his shoes out one by one. “Aw, come on! They took the laces out of my boots!”

“Yeah, that’s why I told you not to bother trying to put ‘em on earlier.” Simon responded, digging through his own bag for footwear. Normally, he wouldn’t bother if they were just going to make camp, but the floor of their new shelter hadn’t been very appealing to walk on in the first place. Plus, the night was turning out to be pretty cold. “I guess they hoped we’d struggle with putting the laces in or something.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Finn said, putting his socks back on as he spoke. ”My feet kinda hurt after running barefoot for so long, though.”

Simon examined his own feet as he put on his own socks. They were filthy, which was probably to be expected, but they didn’t feel particularly sore. _I guess he wears shoes more often than I do..._  “They probably hurt ‘cause of all the bolts on the ground in Junkyard Town,” he mused. “It felt like walking on those little plastic connecty brick things or something.”

“Hahaha, yeah.” Finn replied, threading the laces back into his boots as he spoke. “It used to drive my mom nuts when I left those things lying out for her to step on.”

“Yeah, I think everyone’s mom gets mad when they hurt their feet on those bricks.” Simon chuckled, threading his own boots. “By the way, uh... Sorry about freezing up back there. Kinda stupid of me.”

“I was gonna ask about that,” Finn said. “I hope you don’t lock up like that every time someone calls you a crook, that’d be kinda messed up.”

“Not like _that_.” Simon replied, digging through his bag again in the hopes of finding another liquid candle to lace his boots by. “I mean, yeah, there was that time with the little girl in the thief city-”

“ _Penny,_ ” Finn breathed murderously. “I think I know who you’re talking about. And don’t worry, I freaked out when she tricked me as well.”

“Oh Gob, she’s the same person in your world too?!” Simon exclaimed. _Of all the horrible people to be the identical in each universe!_ “But yeah, I wasn’t exactly in any danger that time anyway.”

“So it’s just O’Malley that sets you off like that?”

Simon shrugged as he started lacing up his other shoe. “I dunno. I tried not to think about him much after he got put in jail. Although...” Simon struggled to find the right way to put it. “Nnnngh, forget it, it’s dumb.”

“Although what? “Finn asked, digging the second boot out of his backpack. ” C’mon, I promise I won’t laugh.”

“It’s more that it kind of sounds really awful.” Simon sighed.

“What do you... _ohh,_ I get it.” Finn said. “I guess you really idolized the guy before you figured out he was a crook, huh?”

Simon let himself fall backwards, draping himself over the rusty crate. “Worse. I kinda knew from the get-go he’d done really bad things. Heck, he even _told_ me about some of the stuff he’d done. But... it’s just, when you read about most heroes, they’re all big hulking guys who can break trees in half like Billy, right? And me, I’m... “ Simon gestured to himself with his free hand. “Well, I ain’t gonna grow up to break any trees in half. So when I was a kid, listening to this skinny dog guy’s stories about how he managed to beat some dude twice his size by outsmarting him or out-maneuvering him, well... back then, it just sounded so _cool,_ y’know? Apart from the bits where he was robbing banks and stuff. I figured if I could save people, but the way he did stuff... Ugh, I’m not making any sense, am I.”

“I think I get it.” Finn replied, pulling his boots on. “You wanted to be as cool as him without being _bad_ like him, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right!” Simon sat up again, having finished lacing up his boots. Inwardly, Simon was pretty surprised he was being so open about this with Finn- he hadn’t even told _Gunter_ how much he’d originally looked up to O’Malley, and he talked about everything with Gunter.“I guess I didn’t stop and think he might _still_ do bad stuff. And, you know, drag _me_ into it.”

“I get you,” Finn said, standing up as he dug through his backpack one last time. “Although that still doesn’t really explain why you froze up back there...” Finn pulled his hand out of his backpack, a pocket flashlight in hand. “Heh, I knew I packed this for a reason!”

“...You saw the way he was looking at me, right?” Simon replied quietly, drawing his knees up to his chin. “That wasn’t even a ‘you’re a bad person’ look - he was looking at me like he was _proud_ of me for busting out of jail.”

“Well, it’s like you said, he’s very persuasive, right?” Finn said, switching his flashlight on. “He was probably trying to trick you into feeling bad about breaking out so you’d go back down in that cell again or something. Or maybe he was just doing it to mess with you. Either way,” Finn patted Simon on the back, ”Don’t worry about it too much. Anyway, d’you you think people will see it if we start a fire? It’s pretty cold out tonight...”

“I don’t think so... and some fire would be nice. It’s probably gonna get even colder, anyway.” Simon responded, handing Finn the liquid candle. ” Can I borrow that tiny flashlight to go look for some firewood? It’s probably more use outside than this thing.”

Finn nodded, handing Simon the flashlight in return. “Sure, I’ll dig out some matches while you’re out there.”

Simon pushed his way past the ferns at the entrance and into what he expected to be fresh air, only to realize that the strange smell he’d picked up in the broken plane was actually stronger outside. Sniffing the air again as he picked up a handful of fallen twigs and needles for kindling, Simon tried desperately to place the throat-catching, almost sweet aroma. _What IS that smell? It’s like somewhere between pine and-_

It was then he had a dreadful thought. Turning around, he shone the flashlight onto the big, dark-needled pine tree growing around the ruined aircraft.

Immediately, his guts turned to ice.

In the torch light, the jet-black needles of the tree shimmered iridescently in a myriad of colors, like petrol on water. Under any other circumstance, he’d have found it really cool to see one of these trees in person, but right now, all Simon could do was gape in horror as he realized what they’d been about to do.

“...Oh, _slids_!”

Dashing back inside, he grabbed Finn’s arm and began to drag him out. “Finn, we can’t stay here. We’ve gotta find somewhere else to camp.”

“What?!” Finn protested, digging his heels in. “Dude, you said this place was perfect!”

“Yeah, that’s what I said _before_ I got a better look at the tree outside.“ Simon responded, insistently pulling Finn further away from the wrecked aircraft. “It’s not safe to stay here, bro - _especially_ if we’re gonna make a fire.”

“Why, what’s wrong with the tree?” Finn replied, only somewhat resisting Simon’s insistent arm-tugging now.

Simon responded by shining the flashlight on the tree again. “See how it’s all rainbow-y in the light?”

“Hey, yeah, kinda looks like oil on water. Is it poisonous?” Finn asked.

“No. _flammable_.” Simon replied, letting go of Finn’s arm.

“Yikes. You mean, like, even more flammable than normal trees, right?”

Simon nodded, still walking away from the aircraft. “Yeah, like _super_ -flammable. ‘s called... Ugh, I can’t remember the common name- the scientific name is _Pinus Hexxus_ , though- it grows on deposits of pre-war fuel, and...” Simon attempted to suppress an involuntary shudder as he thought of what could have happened if they’d actually started that fire.

_Just one spark on that tree or its fallen needles, and FWOOSH, inferno. And what if we’d been asleep when it happened?..._ Simon suddenly felt very light-headed. He stopped walking and knelt down, taking deep breaths.

Finn knelt down behind him, concern written on his face. “Hey, dude, you okay?”

“Y-yeah, just... thought too much about what coulda happened to us if we’d lit a fire under that tree. And one that big? Glob, we could’ve set the whole _forest_ on fire...” Simon gasped. He’d somewhat anticipated a panic attack after realizing the identity of the tree, and he was pretty sure this was just a small one, but it was no less embarrassing to endure one in front of his friend.

Finn, however, didn’t seem entirely surprised. “Yeesh. No wonder it set your really-big-fire phobia off. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, just give me a moment to get my breathing under control.” Simon responded, somewhat shakily. “Hey, how’d you know about-”

Finn shrugged. “Your last letter, remember?”

“Wha... oh yeah! Because you mentioned you were scared of the ocean in your last letter.” Simon replied. Already, he was feeling a lot better. _I guess that rules out taking him to meet Betty, though..._

 

\----

 

After Simon regained his breath, the two of them set off in search of a more suitable campsite, quickly spotting another decently hidden spot in the hollow of a massive stump (that Simon identified as being from a much-less-combusible type of tree). Soon, they had a small fire going, the handful of twigs and needles Simon had collected from beneath the oily-leaved tree acting as pungent, but extremely effective kindling.

“So I guess you’re not dating a fire elemental princess like I am, huh.” Finn said, digging through his backpack in search of food. “Probably wouldn’t work out well.”

“Nah. I don’t think you’d feel comfortable around my girlfriend, either...” Simon replied, looking up from the book he’d pulled out of his bag as soon as there was enough light from the fire to read by.

“Why, is she an ocean princess or something?” Finn joked.

To his surprise, Simon nodded. “Yep. Kinda makes sense there’d be a weird mirror image thing going on, to be honest, what with how in your universe _I’m_ the one stuck with that cursed ice crown.”

Finn had to admit, there was an interesting parallel going on there. “This is just a shot in the dark, but is your girlfriend’s name Betty?”

Simon chuckled. “I take it Gunter mentioned her?“ For a moment, worry flickered across his face. “Uhh... by the way, if he mentioned how we met, he’s not telling the full story, okay?”

“Dude, I heard that name from Ice King’s tapes. A lady named Betty was his fiance before he put on the crown, so I just figured the name might be the same here too. How DID you meet her, though?”

“Well, it kind of comes off sketchy, but... I snuck into the Ocean Kingdom’s royal library after hours, and she was in there studying. Then, since she’d never seen a human before, she wound up following me to shore afterwards to get a closer look, and she wound up getting too excited about it- and when she gets too excited about stuff, the sea begins to storm up.” Simon said. “I can’t even kiss her without massive storms happening.”

“Yikes.” Finn replied. He knew that feeling all too well, or something like it.

“It gets worse,” Simon continued. “She kind of snuck away without telling anyone, and the last person she was seen with was me, so I... ” he buried his face in his hand. “I wound up with the entire Ocean Kingdom thinking I’d kidnapped their princess.”

Finn _tried_ to not laugh at this, but in this case he couldn’t help himself.

“Hey, it’s not funny, man!”

“I’m sorry!” Finn said, suppressing further snickering. “It’s just... the you in my world- the Ice King - kind of has princess-kidnapping as his Thing.”

Simon’s face fell. “Oh Glob. _Why?!_ ”

“He wants to marry one. That, and he’s too messed up to realize that kidnapping ladies is wrong.” Finn sighed. “He’s kinda gotten a little better since Marceline started hanging out with him, though.”

“Kidnapping _anyone_ is wrong.” Simon responded. “I didn’t realize the me in your world hangs out with your world’s Marceline, though!”

“Yeah, back when she was a little girl he was, like, a second dad to her or something.” Finn replied. Since learning of their past, he’d tried to deal with Ice King as non-violently as possible, but sometimes the only course of action was to punch him to get him to stop being a jerk.

“Heh, I guess we always wind up as almost-family in any universe,” Simon grinned. “Although I I’m pretty sure she sees me more like a kid brother than a dad in this universe, ‘cause, y’know, younger than her...”

Finn shrugged. “Makes sense to me. Does she still have a band in this world?”

“Yeah,” Simon said. “She’s normally on the road with them when she’s not doing royal Monster Kingdom stuff. I hope she’s free when we get out of the mess we’re in here, though, ‘cause you should _totally_ meet her!”

“That’d be pretty sweet!” Finn said. Then, remembering what he’d been meaning to say since escaping Junkyard Town’s jail; “By the way, I should, you know, probably apologize for punching you in the face earlier...”

“I guess so, but let’s be fair here - I probably deserved it for not being honest with you earlier.” Simon replied. “If I’d just told you who I was right away, we... well, we might’ve still wound up in this situation anyway, but the getting-there wouldn’t have been nearly as crummy.”

Finn winced inwardly as Simon poked at the bruise around his eye.“I guess so... but still think I hit you too hard. And I shouldn’t have broken your glasses, either way. Why are you still wearing them, anyway?”

“Can’t see well enough without ‘em. Not close up, anyway.” Simon said, running a finger over the cracked lens. “Normally I bring along a spare pair, buuut my spare pair is currently broken even worse than these ones. It’s no big, really- I can see okay out of these, and we can go get replacement lenses once everything’s calmed down.”

_IF things calm back down,_ Finn thought as he gazed into the fire. What if they didn’t? He hoped fervently that his arrival in Uuu hadn’t inadvertently ruined his friend’s reputation as a hero somehow. What’s more, Jake and Gunter were still somewhere in Junkyard Town, and there was a good chance of O’Malley attacking them if they stayed in town!

Finn could only hope they were prepared for a fight...

 

\------

 

“OooOOOooogh.” Jake floated over the table, buoyed up by all the gas in his belly.. About ten rootbeers ago, he had morphed himself into a balloon, one stretched-out arm forming the string. The hand on the end still grasped a half-empty mug of drink, but Jake just didn’t have it in him to finish it off yet. “I think I gotta take a burpin’ break. So much gas.”

“Same here.” Gunter responded, currently resembling a black and white sphere with a beak and feet instead of a penguin. They were the only people in the bar this late. “I probably shouldn’t burp indoors just yet, actually.”

“‘Cause it’ll stink up the place with gross fish smell again?”

Gunter nodded. “Think you can pull me outside?” he held his flippers up as far as they could go. “I don’t think... I can actually get up right now”.

Dropping his mug on the table, Jake floated over to Gunter and grabbed one of his flippers, managing to weakly tug him off of his chair before giving up. “Nope. Not gonna work. I’m too floaty right now- _urp-_ ”

A thunderous, forceful belch abruptly started to emanate from Jake’s mouth, propelling him- and Gunter, whose flipper he held on tightly- through the bar. Gunter, thinking quickly even in his bloated state, tugged Jake’s arm to steer him back towards the front door.

Once out of the bar, Jake, still belching, quckly let go of Gunter’s flipper, propelled upwards by the force of his prolonged burp. After a couple of seconds, he finally finished, quickly shapeshifting into a paper airplane in order to glide back down to earth safely. As he did so, he surveyed the altitude-based fruits of his gas-based labor.

“Hey, I totally cleared the signpost with that burp!”

“Yeah, I saw!” Gunter said, looking quite queasy from his wild ride. “Next time you’re here, you should aim for topping one of the really big junk towers... Ohh, my belly.”

“Geez, you ain’t gonna puke, are ya?” Jake said as he touched ground, shifting back to his normal form. He was relatively certain that he didn’t want a good whiff of _that smell_ again, masked by countless root beers or not.

“No, just... just need to lie down and take in the fresh air for a bit. By the way, did you see Simon or Finn while you were up there? They’re taking their time coming back!”

“I didn’t. I’m kinda gettin’ worried as well now...” Jake replied, scanning the area. All of the market stalls were long closed, save for a lone stand for snack food with a sleeping rat lady at the counter. Apart from some lit windows, there few other signs of life, aside from the odd late-night straggler, and a figure in white storming out of the front door of a small, more conventional-built building next to town hall, who... who seemed to be making a beeline for their position, an expression of cold fury painfully apparent despite the hat covering his eyes.

“...Bloomin’ ‘eck, that’s _him_.” Gunter said, a note of cold fury finding its way into his voice as well. “That’s O’Malley! What’s he doing here?”

“...And why’s he got a mayor sash on?” Jake added. _If this joker is really in charge of the town..._ A great many hypotheses as to where Finn and Simon had vanished to popped into Jake’s head at once, and none of them were pleasant. Some of them, however, such as “They’re being chased by zombies piloting a Clambulance”, were also very unlikely

“I don’t think I really care right now,” Gunter replied. “All I know is, I’m going to punch him. Feel free to join in once I’ve knocked out a few teeth.”

“No offense, but you’re kind of like a feathery beach ball right now. You sure you can take him on in this state?” Jake said, eyeing the ever-nearing figure in white.

Gunter narrowed his eyes. “ _Positive_. Watch this.”

As he finally reached the two of them, O’Malley ignored Jake entirely, instead stomping over to the still-quite-spherical Gunter. “ _You!_ ” he rasped. “Where’s your sneaky weasel of a brother? I got unfinished business with him, an’ chances are, you know where he is!”

“Funny you should say that,” Gunter said, rolling himself forward slightly so he could glare O’Malley in the eye more effectively. “I’ve recently been reminded that I’ve got unfinished business with _you_ , and it all mostly involves my foot in your butt.”

O’Malley sneered, planting a foot on Gunter’s belly, elicting a pained squawking noise. “You ain’t in no shape to take me on, boy. An’ you-” O’Mallley stabbed a finger at Jake, looking up briefly, “-can just stay outta this, aight?” He turned his attention back to Gunter. “You better start talkin’, fatty, or you’re gonna get more and more uncomfortable down there very quickly.”

“Oooooh. I wouldn’t do that.” Gunter said, oddly confident for someone with a foot in their gut. “Might not be good for your health.”

O’Malley scoffed, leaning harder in retaliation. “Why, you got some secret weapon I ain’t seen ye-”

It was then, aided by the extra pressure on his stomach, that Gunter burped.

it wasn't as prolonged a burp as Jake’s, or even a particularly loud one, but it did sound like a highly satisfying burp. What’s more, the fact Gunter had aimed his Surströmming burp directly into O'Malley's face had likely made it all the more satisfying... And it made it _very_ satisfying on many levels for Jake to watch, too.

O’Malley’s reaction was _spectacular_. Jerking backwards with a loud noise somewhere between a choking gasp and a pained howl, he stumbled and fell backwards, clawing wildly at his eyes and nose.

Before O’Malley could recover, Gunter, now deflated sufficiently to get to his feet, bounded forward onto his chest and slapped him in the face hard enough to dislodge a tooth. “You know, I never got to _personally_ thank you for all that you did for Simon,“ he said with uncharacteristic venom. He swatted away O’Malley’s hand as the dog weakly grabbed for him, likely still reeling from both the smell and the blow to the face. “Like giving him all those guilt issues that he can’t seem to shift! I’m sure he’s ever so grateful.” Gunter struck him again, this time in the shoulder. “He was _six_ , and he _trusted_ you, and you went and threw that back in his fa-”

O’Malley, abruptly gaining some control over his senses, tossed a fistful of dirt and rusty screws into Gunter’s face, giving him enough opening to shove the penguin off of him and stagger to his feet, coughing violently.

“You wanna talk abou-” O’Malley paused again, gasping fresh air into his lungs. “-about throwin’ trust back in faces? What about _you_? You _and_ your slimy little brother!” he spat as Gunter tried to rub the dirt and grit from his eyes. “I taught your brother somethin’ he wanted to learn, an’ when I tried to get somethin’ in return for it, the two of you turn on me and land my butt in jail!”

“ _Excuse_ me?! You _used_ him, then tried to blackmail him into letting you use him even more!” Gunter snapped, still trying to rub and blink the residual dirt out of his eyes. “And all _I_ did was help stop you!”

“Ah, shaddup.” O’Malley aimed a kick at the still-partially-blinded Gunter, only to suddenly be grabbed by his other ankle and hoisted in the air. It seemed Jake had decided to step in, stretching his arm so O’Malley was suspended several feet off the ground. “Oh, so now you’re gangin’ up on me?” O’Malley yelled from his new position. “Don’t tell me, noodle-arms here is a friend of that kid with the stupid hat and bad teeth Simon was hangin’ around with.”

“Wait, how’d you know about Finn?” Jake demanded, jiggling O’Malley up and down a bit for good measure. “You DID something to them, didn’t you??”

“I threw ‘em in jail, but that was for bein’ behind a string of-” O’Malley paused, then shrugged. “Aw, hell, you ain’t gonna believe me anyway, even if it was true. I just needed ‘em outta the way.”

“So they’re in the town jail? Okay, cool. Think you’re up for a jailbreak, Gunter?” Jake said, shapeshifting his free hand into the form of a cake with a saw embedded in it for emphasis.

“They ain’t there _now_ , geniuses, but feel free to go bust in there anyway. With any luck, Nick’ll have woken up and’ll break you in two for tresspassin’.” O’Malley retorted. “The two of ‘em broke out ‘round sunset. Lucky for that Finn kid, too - if I ever see him again after he punched me like that, I’ll-”

O’Malley did not get to finish his sentence. Out of the sky, a bolt of crackling magic hit him straight in the chest, encasing him in ice from ears to ankles. Jake’s O’Malley-holding arm, not expecting the sudden increase in weight, sagged and dropped to the ground with its load. Jake turned in the direction the freezing bolt came from, as did Gunter...

And for the second time in as many days, Jake’s jaw stretched and hit the ground.

A while ago, on Prismo’s TV Wall, Jake had seen Finn wearing the Ice King’s crown, but at the time he hadn’t thought much about it. It had been an alternate wish-world Finn, anyway, and he hadn’t seemed all too different aside from being, as Jake had put it at the time, “mad uglies”.

The person flying towards them, manic-eyed and giggling, was like if someone had taken that version of Finn, filtered him through the Ice King, and then stuck both of them in a blender just for good measure. He was clad in a ragged blue tunic tied around the middle, his entire right arm was made of solid, crystalline ice instead of flesh, and he had a long, scruffy white goatee and bangs, but he also wore a VERY familiar bear-hat under his crown, and was even missing the same teeth as the Finn that Jake knew as his brother and best friend.

It seemed that Junkyard Town was suddenly host to visiting ice royalty.

Oblivious to Jake’s utter shock, Prince Finn-Ice touched down and trotted over to the frozen O’Malley, who did very little other than widen his eyes and wiggle his toes frantically at this new development. Not that he could do much else.

“Oh my GLOB, Jake!“ His voice just added another layer of disconcerting- while he sounded a bit older, it was unmistakably Finn’s voice... if he was doing a half-hearted attempt to impersonate the Ice King after screaming at the top of his lungs for eight hours. ”This is the first time you’ve actually HELPED me catch a puppy! Normally you just sit and lick your nards while I do all the awesome bits!”

“Whuh...” Jake began. He was having trouble making word sounds. He’d been told about Finn-Ice last night by Simon and Gunter, sure, but he hadn’t been expecting to come face-to-face with him. And even if he had, he probably wouldn’t have handled it much better.

“Oh, don’t be so modest, buddy!“ Finn-Ice patted Jake on the head with his non-ice arm. ”You’re getting one of the BIG rawhide chews when I get home- the type that looks like a bone, not one of the gross shoe-thing ones!” Seizing the block of ice that contained O’Malley with little effort, he attempted to tuck it under his arm, eventually just digging the claws of his ice-arm into the ice so it wouldn’t fall from his grasp. “I’d give you a lift back to the castle, but this guy’s pretty heavy- guess his old owners kept feeding him leftovers!”

Gunter, probably realizing Jake’s brain was too broken to do much at present, attempted to intervene, walking up to the frosty royal. “Oi, Finn-Ice, _no_. You _know_ you can’t just randomly kidnap people like this. Don’t make me call Simon over here so the two of us can kick your butt togethe-”

Finn-Ice giggled. “Yeah, right, Gunter, I know he's not here! I saw him while flying over this way, camping out in a tree stump with his dorky new friend!”

“Buh.” Jake intoned. The more he listened, the worse it was- it didn’t help that he seemed to use a lot of Finn’s speech mannerisms.

“See?” Finn-Ice pointed at Jake with his free hand. ”Jake says he called dibs on him for me!”

“No, WE called dibs on him for our own use. We’re not done punching him!” Gunter replied, jabbing a flipper at the block of ice under his arm.

Abruptly, Finn-Ice’s demeanor flipped from cheerful to outraged. “YOU PUNCHED A PUPPY?!” he shrieked, “HOW DAAAAAAARE YOU!!!” Still holding O’Malley under one arm, he punted Gunter, sending him flying into a nearby baker’s stand. “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO ONLY USE _NEWSPAPERS_ ON PUPPIES!”

“Well! So much for doing this the diplomatic way,” Gunter said, sitting up in the leftovers of today’s cakes. Then, with a few loud _pops_ , he generated several clones twice the prince’s size, who then stampeded towards Finn-Ice.

“Whoops. I totally forgot you could do that!” Finn-Ice giggled, flying out of clone-reach in the nick of time with a flap of his bangs. “I gotta split anyway- gotta housetrain my new dog and stuff!” He waved as he ascended further into the sky. “Don’t stay out too late, Jake!”

Gunter plodded over to Jake, re-absorbing the clones as he went. “Ugh... should’ve just hit him instead of trying to talk it over,” he muttered, watching Finn-Ice rapidly vanish into the night sky. “The worst part is, me and Simon’ll probably end up having to save him later on...” Realizing Jake was still unresponsive, he poked him in the side. “Oi, Jake, are you alright?”

For a moment more, Jake said nothing, still stunned. Then, with a shudder, he retracted his jaw to its proper position, snapping back to his senses. “...MAN, that was way way _waaaay_ creepier than I was expecting! Sorry I froze up there...”

“It’s probably a good thing you did- he’d probably have frozen and made off with you as well if he’d realized you were different from _his_ Jake.” Gunter replied, handing Jake one of the leftover cakes from the stall.

Jake accepted the cake Gunter offered him, which looked to be some sort of jam-and-cream filled sponge. “Shame he interrupted the punching before we really started- although I guess if you and Simon are gonna be savin’ him later, you can punch him some more then, right?”

Gunter frowned, glancing down at his flippers. “I guess so... I don’t think I was really punching him, to be honest - more like slapping him.”

“You knocked one of his teeth out, dude, I think it probably counts if you’re slappin’ him that hard.” Jake replied through a mouthful of cake.

“Ohh, it’s just not the same,” Gunter said, still staring at his flippers with a look of deepest worry. ”Even Simon gets to punch bad guys now and again, and that’s not even really his style... I’m starting to think it’s impossible to punch people with flippers.”

“Then you gotta use what you got!” Jake responded, finishing off his cake. “Slappin’ people really hard works too, right? Or, if the punching bit really means something to you, use your powers to shapeshift yourself a fist, and--- oh. Wait. Forgot your powers didn’t work that way, sorry.” Jake mentally slapped himself for forgetting such an obvious issue.

Gunter, however, had suddenly gained an expression of deep thought. Jake hadn’t realized a penguin’s features could even carry an expression so deeply. “ _Hmmmmm_. I’ll have to work out exactly how I’m going to do it, but I just might be able to take you up on that challenge.“

Jake blinked. “Okay, I’m _way_ too interested in how you’re gonna pull that off. We should brainstorm after we go find Finn and Simon...”

“Might as well do it now, to be honest - wouldn’t look great if we both vanished right around the same time the mayor disappeared, anyway.” Gunter replied, heading back inside the bar.

After a moment’s thought, Jake decided to follow him. ”Yeah, good point. Besides, it’s not like the two of them can get into much trouble just camping out in the woods, right?”

 

\-----

 

“Hey, I didn’t know there was one of those celestial alignment things in your world tonight!” Finn hadn’t noticed the greenish lights in the sky until he’d stood up to stretch. Back in Ooo, the celestial alignment only happened once every five years or so, which made them a pretty good excuse for roof parties.

Simon looked up from adding fresh twigs to the fire. “Huh?... Oh that’s the aurora - It’s caused by highly charged electrons from solar wind reacting with the planet’s magnetic field and atoms in the upper atmosphere. I’ve never heard it called a celestial alignment, though...”

“I have no idea what all that science junk you said was.” Finn replied. “We’re probably missing out on some really cool parties for it, though...”

“Not really,” Simon said, climbing the side of the hollow stump to get a better view. ”It’s pretty common to see it in the northern parts of Uuu around this time of year... I guess you don’t get them as often back in your world, huh?“

“We only see them every few years back in Ooo.” Finn said, climbing up to sit by Simon, who was now perched on the edge of the stump. “Me and Jake held a roof party for the last one- it was pretty awesome up until I got kidnapped by gnomes after the party ended.”

“Woah. Actually, now I think about it, something similar happened to me, but it was after a meteor shower party.” Simon responded. “Did they try to use you to power their earth-turning machines in your world?”

“Yeah, that sucked.” Finn said, deciding to conveniently not mention the sexy-fun-dancing part.

“What was up with their plasma ball running off of sexy-fun-dancing, anyway?” Simon continued. “What creeps!“ he groaned, gazing up at the lights above them. Then, suddenly, something seemed to catch his eye. “...Wait, I think that’s Finn-Ice over there! What’s he doing out this late?”

Finn looked to where Simon was pointing. He’d have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t curious as to what he looked like in this alternate world. Sure enough, while they were currently too far away to see much, _someone_ was flying towards them, and Finn knew the outline of that globdang crown when he saw it. “I dunno... didn’t you say he kidnapped dogs?”

“Yeah, and he’s holding something under his ar- oh clamballs, he _didn’t!_...” Simon hissed as Finn-Ice flew overhead, the aurora light making the contents of the block of ice he was carrying identifiable. “Of all the dogs in Uuu to kidnap!”

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, though.” Finn said, slightly annoyed that he’d gotten a better look at the frozen O’Malley than he had of his alternate universe self. “I guess this means we can go back into town for Jake and Gunter, though...”

Simon jumped back down into the hollow stump, kicking dirt onto their campfire to extinguish it. “No, we’ve gotta go rescue him, as much as I hate to say it. Plus, those two guards are probably still on the lookout for us in town. We can deal with that mess later.”

Finn watched Simon smother the fire. “Are you sure that we wanna go save a jerk like him?” Normally, he’d have argued that saving someone from an ice royal was super important, but O’Malley had turned out to be way worse than Ice King, no doubt partially because he full well knew he was doing bad things and just didn’t care. Plus, it wasn’t like his icy double was going to try and force O’Malley to marry him. Or at least he _hoped_ he wouldn’t.

Simon paused for a moment, then shrugged. “...I was kinda talking about Finn-Ice, actually, but now I think about it, it’d probably help prove to O’Malley I’m the better guy, huh?” Simon climbed the side of the tree stump again, this time jumping over the edge and heading off into the forest after the rapidly dwindling figure of Finn-Ice. Finn followed closely behind.


	6. Ice monsters and Bad Puppies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The illustration for this chapter was done by Tablart [tumblr at http://tablart.tumblr.com/ ]. She's great. <3

It was cold. _Very_ cold.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, really.

The cold wasn’t the worst part, though. The worst part, by far, was the maddening urge to try to breathe, even though it had become clear to him by now that the ice encasing him was enchanted so he didn’t need to. The instinct to breathe, however, wasn’t exactly something one could reason away.

Again, he tried to struggle, but it was hopeless. Like being encased in concrete, only much colder.

Through the ice, he’d seen very little of the journey past the Prince’s armpit, apart from the moment where the royal pain’s grip had slipped near the end of the flight and he’d caught a glimpse of what could have been snow-capped, glassy mountains.

As they landed, Finn-Ice set the ice block on the floor. O’Malley briefly resigned himself to spending the night in that position before the world suddenly pitched forward again. Before he had a chance to react, the ice surrounding him shattered with impact, the sound thunderous in his ears despite the ice still stuck in them.

Lying there on the frigid floor, stiff from the cold, all O’Malley could think was that it was probably a good thing he’d had no time to brace for the impact - it’d probably have smarted even worse if he had.

Digging ice out of his ear, he was rewarded with his captor’s voice. Finn-Ice had apparently been talking to him this entire time.

“...and since he’ll probably come over to pick a fight over how my new pet is clearly _way_ better than his, I figured I’d better bust out the new time-trap locks to see if _they_ can stop him! For now, though, you just sit tight and chill in your new kennel while I read my training cheat sheets, okay boy?” Finn-Ice was standing at the bars to the large cage, which, from what O’Malley could see through the bars, seemed to be constructed as part of the prince’s living chambers.

The cage itself had furnishings, after a fashion: several old squeaky toys and a frisbee littering the floor, a stained and dubious-smelling dog pillow, and a beaten old wicker basket in the corner. The basket, unappealing as a sleeping spot on its own, was currently occupied by the remains of a poodle, its belly torn open by some unknown trauma, likely caused by Finn-Ice himself. O’Malley couldn’t tell how long ago the wretched thing had expired, however- the cold temperature could have preserved it for years for all he knew.

As he struggled into a sitting position, he retrieved his hat- which had miraculously stayed on his head while being held upside-down by Jake- from where it had fallen. He shot Finn-Ice a disdainful glance before putting it on. “I ain’tcher pet, old man. I’m a public official, an’ you dragged me away from an important investigation!”

“Really?” Finn-Ice looked up from his “training cheat sheets”, which appeared to be a mixture of dog-eared print-outs and scribbled notes held together at the corner with several paperclips. “Because from what I saw, you were getting your butt totally kicked until my buddy Jake here stepped in and saved you!” Finn-Ice pointed over his shoulder at a rather familiar yellow shape, currently lying on the bed and snoring.

O’Malley squinted at the sleeping canine figure. It sure did _look_ like Gunter’s stretchy friend. “Wait, your buddy Ja-” Suddenly, O’Malley noticed the striking resemblance between the boy who’d punched him earlier and the wizard in front of him. “Wait. That was _you_ in disguise earlier, wasn’t it?!” Of course! This was partially a plot of revenge after trying to lock him in jail! Simon must be his dog-kidnapping minion, then. While he didn’t think Simon would be willing to knowingly go along with that, he _did_ remember the kid having a naive streak a mile wide...

Finn-Ice looked up from his notes. “I dunno what you’re talking about, puppy, I haven’t done any roleplay stuff all day!”

O’Malley snorted. If he wanted to play dumb, then fine. “Whatever. So when is Simon comin’ to gloat?”

“ _Uuuugh,_ stop interrupting my reading!” Finn-Ice groaned, throwing his hands up in frustration and sending sheets of paper and paperclips scattering everywhere. “He’ll probably show up to try and rescue you sooner or later, I guess. Now _quiet_ , boy, or I’ll get the newspaper!”

As the Prince scrambled about the floor, picking up his sheets of paper, O’Malley sat ruminating on this new piece of info. Simon was clearly desperate to prove himself a hero if he was running some sort of kidnapping-and-rescue scam with Prince Finn-Ice. Every dog in Uuu knew the Prince of the Ice Kingdom wasn’t to be trusted, even if lately he had been rumored to have downgraded to more of a traumatizing nuisance than a real threat.

Suddenly, he realized that one of the paperclips from Finn-Ice’s stack of papers had fallen inside the cage. Slowly, so as to not let his captor notice, he reached over and pocketed it.

The Prince would have to leave the room sooner or later, and while he wasn’t exactly the most nimble-fingered locksmith he knew, O’Malley definitely wasn’t about to wait around for someone else to rescue him.

\-----

“You really wanna sneak in this way?”

Finn squinted through the falling snow at the entrance Simon was pointing out, a lower window with a wall full of protruding ice spikes leading up to it. In theory, it looked climbable, but it also looked very slippery and potentially a prime lose-grip-and-fall-on-sharp-ice-shards climbing location.

“Yeah! I’ve used this way a bunch of times and he _still_ hasn’t posted any guards or monsters or anything up there.” Simon seemed unfazed, both by the climb ahead and the cold air- although considering Simon had been raised by _penguins_ , Finn wasn’t entirely surprised by the latter point. “Busting in the front door and cracking skulls generally doesn’t mesh well with how I do things, anyhow.”

“I guess, but we’re way less likely to fall and be impaled on ice spikes going through the front door.” Finn said, digging in his backpack in the vain hope of finding a sweater he’d somehow managed to pack and forget about. The cold was about what he’d expect from the Ice Kingdom, sure, but he hadn’t expected it to get so cold on the way _to_ the Ice Kingdom. At least, not at this time of year. “You seriously haven’t lost your grip on those spikes before?”

“Had a close call once.” Simon shrugged, digging in his own bag briefly, pulling out a small pouch. “Gunter figured out a trick for it, though - if you rub your hands with some damp beach sand, it aids your grip a whole bunch - kind of like how chalk dust does the same for actual rock climbing.”

“Huh.” Finn said, yanking something out of his backpack that his searching hand had identified as soft and warm. Instead of a sweater as he’d hoped, however, it turned out to be a scarf wrapped around some fingerless gloves. Close enough, he thought, wrapping the scarf securely around his neck and putting the gloves on as he took another wary look at the climb. “Y’know, since I’m here, we could _totally_ do the busting in the front door and cracking skulls method...”

“Why do we need to... _ohhhhh_. I get it.” Simon said, suddenly sounding amused. “You don’t think you can make the climb, right?”

“What?! No, dude, I just don’t wanna risk getting hurt over trying to rescue that O’Malley jerk!” Finn protested.

“No, no, it’s cool, bro.“ Simon replied, grinning. “I mean, if you can’t _handle_ it-”

Finn knew that he was playing right into Simon’s hands, but there was something about the other boy’s tone that had just flipped his Competitive Switch something fierce. “Okay, you know what? Fine. I’ll not only make that climb-” He went practically nose-to-nose with Simon, matching his challenging grin as he held out a hand. “-I’ll reach the top _before you_.”

Simon grasped the offered hand, matching Finn’s grip. “You are gonna lose _so hard_ , meathead.”

Then the two of them took a moment to sand up their hands, sized up the wall, and with a dual cry of “readysetGO!”, they launched themselves at the wall of ice shards and began to climb.

To Finn's surprise, the beach sand trick indeed seemed to help him grip the ice. It did nothing to cut the chill, of course, but he moved from handhold to handhold fast enough that the cold barely touched him unless he got stuck. Looking over to his right, however, he saw Simon clambering up the spikes like a dapper monkey, fingers gripping ridges that looked barely big enough to grasp. Finn’s heart sank as Simon passed him - he hadn’t expected Simon to be _that_ fast! Gritting his teeth, he briefly glanced up in search of a quicker route before putting all of his focus into climbing even faster.

Suddenly, there was an ominous crack from somewhere above Finn, followed by by a cry of “GAH, BREADBALLS!” from Simon. Thinking of falling ice or plummeting Simons nailing him in the head, Finn flattened himself against the wall as much as the spikes would allow as a chunk of ice, nearly as big as he was, fell to his right, a loud, crunchy _thud-crack-crumble_ marking its landing on the ice below.

Looking up, Simon was still clinging securely to the wall, not too far from the window, wincing apologetically at his friend. “Sorry about that, bro!” he called down as Finn resumed climbing. “I’ve never had trouble with that bit of the wall before!” Simon glanced up, frowning slightly. “I think I’ve gotta modify my route now, too- if I can’t stand on that bit, I can’t jump up to the next bit I use... Hmm, give me a minute, I can do this...”

_Ha!_ Finn thought. Unlike _some_ people, he didn't have to memorize a route to climb a wall! He could improvise faster than Simon could plan ahead. Putting on a fresh burst of speed, he passed the other boy on his ascent, waving cheerfully with a briefly-free hand. “See you at the top, neeeeerd!”

“Aw, come ON!” Simon exclaimed, casting his eyes upwards frantically in another attempt to find a clear path. After a moment, he gave up, scrambling frantically after Finn in a last-ditch attempt to beat him to the window.

It turned out to be a vain attempt, however, as just when Simon was catching up, Finn grabbed the edge of the window opening with a final lunge. He hauled himself through it and flopped to the floor below, cackling madly for beating Simon at his own game.

Before he could work out exactly how he was going to gloat to his friend, however, the high, crystalline sound of ice grating on ice emanated from a nearby alcove as something began to stir. He only managed to half-draw his sword before something jagged and glittering with a faint, blueish inner glow lunged out at him, striking a blow that sent him flying.

Landing on his feet and readying his sword, he eyed the creature as it came into the light, chittering menacingly. It looked very much like a giant, stocky mantis, albeit with hammer-like appendages where its grabbing claws should be. Mentally, Finn was just a little bit impressed by his alternate-dimension self’s creation, even if it was currently giving him a “I’m going to crush you and then I’m going to eat you” look.

Again, the monster struck at Finn, but this time he was ready, and parried the creature’s arm-hammers, following it up with a ferocious strike that left a deep gouge in the bug’s side and severed one of its middle legs. The beast let out a furious, glass-on-glass shriek that made Finn’s ears hurt, charging forward in a wild dash that Finn sidestepped just in time.

Simon had finished his climb to the window while Finn had been distracting the monster, and now stood alongside him, nunchucks at the ready. “Eesh, I guess Finn-Ice wised up and put a sentry bug by that window. Was only-” Simon dodged a hammer-arm blow that Finn hadn’t had time to parry. “-only a matter of time before he worked it out, I guess... at least it wasn’t one of those spiky armadillo things, though. Those suck serious cheeseballs.”

Finn blocked a fresh salvo of hammer-arm strikes by the creature, wincing slightly as the increasingly furious blows started to reverberate up his arms. “You don’t by any chance know any weak spots on this thing, do you? If we don’t get it down quickly, It’s gonna attract more bad guys with all that shrieking!” He sidestepped a hammer-arm, severing it moments later with a vicious cleave.

“Yeah, stab it in the glowiest part, right between the hammer-arms. Or hammer- _arm_ now, I guess. Hang on, I’ll try and distract it!” Simon said, smacking the monster sharply in the face with his nunchucks as he dodged past its remaining hammer-arm and to its side. Letting out a vitreous howl, the monster attempted to turn to face its latest assailant...

...leaving its weak point wide open for Finn to thrust his blade into. The ice-bug managed a final squawk before collapsing to the floor in a heap of loose segments of ice as the magic holding the creature together dissipated.

“Woah,” Finn said, nudging the chunks of ice-bug with his foot. “it just fell apart?”

“Yeah, as far as I can tell the magic holds them together like magnetism or glue or something.” Simon replied, already heading up the hallway. “It sounds kinda weaksauce, but it means they can stick any parts you break off of ‘em back on if they get a chance.”

Finn shrugged as he followed him. Thinking about it, the bug monster had seemed about on-par with Ice King’s larger snow-goons, or his formidable but easily-shattered ice bulls. “Eh, at least you know how to beat ‘em... Which I guess you’re gonna have to do a lot more now he’s posting guards at that window.”

“Eh, not necessarily... I can always look for a new way in.” Simon replied, peering around a corner carefully before continuing down that fork in the corridor. “At least until Finn-Ice’s sieve-mind kicks in and he forgets why he needed to put guards down there in the first place.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “sieve-what-now?”

“Y’know, sieve-mind. That thing where people keep forgetting things they’ve recently learned.” Simon replied. “Doesn’t your universe’s version of me forget stuff all the time too?”

“I guess, but why would he have that, though?” Finn had, in fact, heard of sieve-mind, but he’d never really thought to apply that term to Ice King.

“Well, I read all up about it, and the books said that some wizards develop it after over-using their magic.” Simon explained. “I just figured since Finn-Ice is a wizard, and he’s clearly over-using his own magic...”

“Or maybe he’s just being messed up by a cursed ice crown.” Finn shrugged.

Simon looked thoughtful for a moment. “...You’ve got a point, I suppose,“ he sighed, re-focusing his attention on where they were headed. ”Can’t really apply brain-science terms to something caused by magic, I guess... Don’t tell Bonnibel I said that, though. She’d give me an earful.”

“I won’t.” Finn replied. Then, with a grin, added. “I’m _totally_ telling her about how you lost against me while climbing that wall, though.”

“Oh Glob, noooooo.” Simon groaned. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

“Nope.” Finn laughed.

“Didn’t think so.”

 

\----

 

For the second time that night, O’Malley found himself sprawled on an icy floor and stiff from the cold, surrounded by shattered chunks of ice. It was, however, the first time since he’d been a puppy that he found himself being whapped on the nose with a newspaper.

“NO-BAD-PUPPY-WE-DON’T-SET-OFF-THE-TIMETRAP-LOCKS!” Finn-Ice yelled, punctuating each word with a blow to O’Malley’s muzzle. He wasn’t hitting him particularly hard, but it was _humiliating_ to endure, even if nobody was there to see. “How’d you even DO that? You don’t even have thumbs!”

O’Malley was about to bitterly retort that he _did_ have thumbs, thank you very much, when suddenly a shrill, keening noise echoed through the castle. O'Malley doubled over and covered his ears as the noise, downright murderous to canine ears, hammered and clawed into his eardrums. His eyes still worked fine, however, and he saw Finn-Ice jump at the sound, then scurry out of the cage, blue-white sparks surrounding his hands as he recharged the magical lock. He couldn’t hear what the Prince was saying, but his lip-reading was good enough to recognize the foremost syllables on the wizard's lips- “Si-mon”.

_Guess that’s how he announces his “rescue missions”, then_ , O’Malley thought as he tried to block out the screeching noise. A few moments later, it abruptly cut out, and despite the echoes still reverberating in his ears he sighed in relief.

First messing up his plans, then having him captured by Prince Finn-Ice, then coming to fake rescue him and almost blowing out his ears in the process... if Simon thought he'd be getting thanks for this, he'd have to think again.

 

\------------

 

“Eesh. Guess it was too much to hope that they wouldn’t have heard that sentry bug, huh?” Finn panted as he and Simon dodged behind a huge pillar of smooth, milky ice. Moments later, a pair of ice monsters, hissing in agitation, clattered past them. They’d had to dodge three other similar patrols before this, although none quite as unsettling as this - Finn didn’t know exactly where his icy doppelganger had gotten the idea to add spidery, clockwork legs of ice to a snow shark and call it a monster, but it clearly wasn’t a happy place.

“Yeah, but at least it’s just some spidersharks this time. Those things are way too easy to beat - just smash the legs. Then all they can do is flop around.” Simon replied, watching the two monsters head for the tunnel the two of them had come through and vanish around a bend.

“I guess so.” Finn wasn’t entirely enthused with the idea of fighting sharks in the first place, even if they were easily-beaten snow sharks. They reminded him too much of the ocean for comfort. “See anything else heading our way?” He said, edging around the side of the pillar after Simon. Despite his cracked glasses, Simon was turning out to be a very good monster-spotter.

Simon scanned the area, turning to face Finn after a few moments. “I didn’t see- _wait_.“ Suddenly, Simon looked off to the side, hand on his nunchucks.”...Do you hear that?”

As it turned out, Finn could hear it. coming from somewhere he could hear a quiet clicking noise, like the claws of something either quite small or very agile on the icy floor. “Yeah. Any idea where it’s coming from?”

“Close. But I’m not sure where, exactly.” Simon replied, his voice a low whisper. “This part of the castle suffers from screwy muffled echoes, what with the soft frost covering half of the walls.”

Finn nodded- There were similar places in Ice King’s castle where echoes were distorted by thick, snow-like frost on some walls. “Yeah, kinda like how sound doesn’t carry on a snowy day.” Then, changing the topic back to the matter at hand; “So any idea WHAT it is?”

“Yeah. Sounds a lot like a Jake to me... One of the taffydogs, I mean, not your bro.”

Finn could have given Lady Luck a vigorous noogie at this development. He’d been getting more and more curious about himself in this alternate dimension, and the idea of meeting _Jake’s_ closest equivalent in this universe before his own was surprisingly annoying. “So... if he’s like the Gunters in my world, we might have a chance of reasoning with him. It’s worth a shot, right?”

“Hmm, could do.” Simon replied thoughtfully, still looking around for the source of the sound. “Although, to be honest, that depends on how good he’s been treating them, actually - I’ve kinda noticed they’re more loyal to him when he hasn’t been ignoring them all week.”

“I dunno, my universe’s Gunter tazed me for trying to borrow one of his socks once.” Finn replied. “Then there was the time he tried to rat out me and NEPTR when we were sneaking into Ice King’s castle to-”

Finn did not finish his story. A sudden _wuff_ from right behind them utterly blindsided both boys. They jumped in shock, screaming and reaching for their weapons as they turned around to face... a perfectly calm-looking taffydog, a large rawhide bone in its mouth. For a moment, the two boys looked at each other in relief that they weren’t the odd one out when it came to emitting unbecoming, excessively high-pitched screams. they turned their attention back to the taffydog, who had dropped his rawhide bone and was now staring at Finn with an odd look on its face.

Finn cautiously eyed the creature. It was odd to see a candy lifeform made to look so much like an already-existing lifeform- if he’d been seeing it from further away, he might have sworn it was a real dog. Heck, if he’d been far enough away, he might have even wondered if it was a relative, for it even seemed to be very similar in breed to his adopted family. This close, however, it had become clear that what might have looked like glossy fur was in fact a fur texture on smooth skin with the tell-tale sheen that gave away its true, saccharine origins. What’s more, judging by the perpetual four-legged stance and the _wuff_ noise it made as it stared at him, this was not and had never been the Jake Finn had known. For example, Jake at least knew it was bad manners to sniff around someone’s feet without asking, as was happening now.

After a moment, though, the taffydog stopped sniffing and started growling, eyes steely. Finn stepped back from the suddenly-angry candy canine. “Ohhh boy. What did I do?“

“Nothing, I think he only just caught on that you aren’t actually his master.” Simon replied, glancing about the chamber. Abruptly, the taffydog barreled past them, barking at the top of its lungs. “Aw, dangit! We’ve gotta go after him, before he brings every monster on this level to us!”

Finn didn’t need telling twice. The two boys chased the taffydog as it sped off down a corridor, Finn suddenly realizing something as they ran. “Hey, I think I know this part of the castle from my universe - he’s heading straight for the royal living quarters, right?”

“I think so, yeah!” Simon replied. “We’ve gotta stop him, and fast!”

Briefly, the taffydog skidded on the icy floor as it rounded a corner. Throwing caution to the wind, Finn seized the chance and tackled it, the two of them hitting the wall. Immediately, the candy canine started thrashing and howling as Finn struggled to keep it within his grasp. He winced as it bit his arm - Bonnibel hadn’t made the taffydog’s teeth quite sharp enough to easily pierce skin, but its jaws were still strong enough for it to hurt. Furiously jabbing a finger into its eye made it let go briefly, but it then grabbed ahold of his backpack straps in its teeth and started tugging and tearing, causing Finn to retaliate by punching it in the nose.

As Finn and the taffydog rolled about on the floor yelling and snarling, Simon looked around frantically, getting his bearings so he could formulate a quick plan. _Dangit, there’s gotta be someplace we can put this Jake while we sneak in!... or try to sneak in, at least, the whole castle’s probably heard us by now._

It was then that he realized they were standing in front of one of Finn-Ice’s junk closets.

Simon was pretty sure that Finn-Ice had a different name for them, but he’d always called them after what they looked like to him - closets full of pre-war junk. Occasionally there would be something interesting in them- he’d once found, while hiding out in one from a particularly huge snow-cobra, a battered book full of information on a war that had happened before the Mushroom War- but generally, they were full of junk that had no significance to anyone but Finn-Ice himself.

They did, however, have something most chambers of the castle didn’t: doors with automatic locks.

“Keep him busy, I’ve got an idea!” Simon said as he pulled his lockpick wallet from his waistcoat, kneeling by the door.

Finn-Ice had never bothered to upgrade the locks to these closets, unlike the one to the “puppy” cage in his living quarters that was replaced nearly every time Simon managed to pick it. In comparison to the ever-changing challenge the cage’s lock usually gave him these days, this door’s lock was almost insultingly easy. Sure enough, it took him only a moment to get the door open. He waited for an opening in the fight, and, seeing one, wrenched the angry Taffydog off of Finn, tossed it bodily into the closet without even looking to see where it landed, then quickly slammed the door shut before it could get to its paws, the door sounding a _click_ as it automatically re-locked on closing.

“Phew!” Simon leaned against the door in relief, listening to the taffydog scratch at the door and bark furiously on the other side. “Well, he’s not stopped making noise, but at least he’s not gonna entirely blow our cover now.”

“Dude, he had my backpack when you threw him in there!” Finn protested, trying to open the re-locked door and subsequently failing. “I _need_ that! What if he rips it apart?!”

“Nah, it’ll probably be too busy trying to get out to bother with the backpack now.” Simon replied as he put the picks he’d been using back into their proper spaces in the wallet. He was pretty sure that the Jake wouldn’t maul that backpack, and they could backtrack for Finn’s stuff on their way out after setting O’Malley free. “It’s not like you have a stringed instrument in there that he can bust all the strings on...”

Suddenly, from inside the junk closet, the taffydog stopped barking. Moments later, there was a sharp _TWANG_. Like someone had tightened an instrument’s string so taut that it had snapped.

Finn froze. “...I think that’s Jake’s viola. He sometimes puts it in my backpack!”

Simon groaned, but pulled his lockpicks out again, kneeling by the keyhole once more. As much of a hassle as he considered it, he liked Jake, and he wouldn’t wish a broken musical instrument on anybody. ”Okay, okay, I’ll re-open it. Keep an eye out, though, we’ve hung around this corridor too long already - something’s bound to be on the way here to check out that barking.”

Finn nodded, looking up and down the corridor briefly. He saw nothing approaching, and couldn’t hear anything except the click of Simon’s picks in the lock. After a second, confident that nothing was coming, he glanced down to watch Simon work, curious as to his friend’s methods. Finn knew the basics of lockpicking- it was a pretty useful skill for an adventurer- but thanks to Jake’s ability to Key-Hand his way through any door, he’d never really used the skill much.

“Pretty sure the monsters aren’t gonna come from where I am, Finn.” Simon murmured, eyes still focused on the lock. “It distracts me when people watch like you’re doing. Watch my back, bro- I _really_ don’t wanna be blindsided by ice monsters while doing this, either.”

“Sorry,” Finn replied, looking away and along the corridor. Irritatingly, there was nothing he could see down the long passage, not even any other doorways for a decent length of it. “What’s taking so long, dude? You got it open in seconds the first time!”

“Sorry, didn’t pay attention to the pin order the first time I picked it. Plus I messed up a bit with the tension wrench at the start... should have it in a seco-” Suddenly, there was a small _snap_ and Simon fumbled briefly, causing Finn to turn his attention away from the corridor. “...And now the pick I was using broke. _Great._ ”

“Dude, seriously?!” Finn exclaimed.

“Yeah, it happens more often in the Ice Kingdom - the cold makes the locks stiffer and your picks more brittle. We’re still all clear on the monster front, right?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing there!” Finn said without looking up, anxious to save Jake’s viola from a full de-stringing by this alternate candy-Jake. Moments later, Simon shoved the door open, revealing the taffydog sitting with its back to them, wagging its tail blithely as it slowly, slowly tightened the next string on Jake’s viola to bursting point. With a second TWANG, the string burst, and the taffydog’s tail-wagging speed doubled with excitement.

“ _HEY, LEAVE IT!_ ” Finn grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be an old, yellowing newspaper, and used it to swat the taffydog away from the viola. Surprisingly, instead of merely getting its attention, the candy dog yelped in shock, dropping the instrument and darting into a gap in the piled junk, well out of his reach.

“Wait, why did it just run away this time?” Finn said as he put his backpack back on, examining the damage to Jake’s viola. It seemed fine, aside from the burst strings, but Finn couldn’t help but be thankful Shelby was away visiting relatives. He didn’t think the poor guy would appreciate his home being jacked up by Jake’s candy doppelganger. “I didn’t hit it hard...”

“Because of that newspaper, I’m guessing.” Simon replied, once again trying to get his lockpicks in order. “Finn-Ice uses a rolled up newspaper to tell taffydogs off- I guess on a subconscious level-WOAH MOMMA!” Simon’s explanation was interrupted as he leaped back, something large, white and glittering slamming into the spot he’d been standing on moments later, rapidly gliding across the icy floor after him and out of view.

_No way... was that a snow-viper?!_ Finn thought. He hadn’t expected to see any familiar monsters in the Ice Kingdom, but apparently some things were just universal constants! Hastily shoving the viola back in his backpack, Finn dashed out of the room just in time to see a long, sinuous tail of snow, crusted in glittering scales of ice, vanishing around the corner. Following the tail- and the sound of Simon letting out a very colorful string of cursewords- led Finn back to the chamber from before, where sure enough, Simon was now focused on keeping one step ahead of strikes from an exceptionally large snow-viper.

_Wait... I don’t think that IS a snow-viper._ Finn took a quick closer look at the monster. Its head was the wrong shape, and its crystalline eyes had round pupils instead of the characteristic slitted cat-pupils that a snow-viper possessed. Even its scales were different, smoother, now he thought about it.

It looked more like a-

_Wait,_ Finn thought, _did alternate-universe-Ice-King Me really make a giant snake out of snow and ice, and design it after a rat snake? Geez, why did I aim so low with such a cool monster idea?_

Despite the interdimensional self-deprecation, Finn fully understood why Simon had run for a less cramped area- ice venom or not, getting constricted by a giant ice snake in a confined space just didn’t sound like a good idea. Now it was out in the open, however, there was nothing

stopping them from pounding it into slush! He drew his sword, and with a run and a leap, Finn speared the monster in the side just as it was about to corner Simon in a crevice. Hissing angrily, the icy serpent thrashed violently, tossing Finn from its side and whipping around to face him. _Man, huge or not, beating this thing is gonna be a snap if it doesn’t have any frost venom to freeze me with!_ Finn scoffed, readying his fists for copious snake-punching.

In response, the snake flared its hood for the first time, hissing even louder. It opened its mouth as it reared up in fury, a glowing blue fluid dripping from its fangs, turning to chunks of ice as the droplets hit the floor, a liquid Finn instantly recognized as frost venom.

_...That’s bad._

Just as the snow-cobra spat its glowing venom at Finn, however, something muddy-green flew past at just the right moment to intercept it. Simon’s bag thudded to the floor in front of Finn, entombed in a chunk of ice, as the other boy ran to join Finn, sliding the last few feet across the icy floor.

“Okay, _seriously_ _,_ ” Simon began, pointing up to the snow-cobra. “how did you manage be a big enough meathead to _not_ see this thing coming?”

“Got distracted by Jake’s viola being in danger and you being such a big nerd.” Finn laughed. “Sorry about your bag, dude.”

“No big deal, I’ll break it out once this thing is slush.” Simon said, eyeing the snow-cobra. It would take a few seconds for the monstrous serpent to recharge its venom supply. “I take it the snow-cobras in your world don’t spit their venom?”

“More like snow-vipers on my end, but yeah, they don’t spit venom.” Finn replied. “We can still take this thing though, right?”

“The two of us against that thing? Well, I dunno, it’s a pretty big one... “ Simon grinned, “but hey, it’s gonna be fun finding out, right?“ Finn matched his grin as he continued.” I’ll distract it while you get your sword back - Just draw it off me if it traps me again, okay?”

“Gotcha!” Finn said, he and Simon quickly leaping in opposite directions as the snow-cobra spat a fresh batch of frost venom on the spot where they’d been standing the moment before. Finn’s heart sang with the joy of a good fight as he sized up the leap to where his sword protruded from the snow-cobra’s side.

Now _this_ was more like it!


	7. Bad ice puns and even worse situations

Prince Finn-Ice dashed back and forth through the room frantically, grabbing blankets, pillows, and the occasional sock or pair of pants, piling them carefully on and around his bed.

The New Puppy stood watching him from the cage. “What in the blazes are you even doin’?”

Finn-Ice poked his head out of the pile. “Well, Simon’s taking longer than usual, so I’m gonna make a blanket fort to hide in. Then, when he comes sneaking in, I’ll jump out and punch him in all his places!” he replied cheerfully. ”THEN we’ll see who’s got the element of surprise!”

New Puppy raised an eyebrow. Although it was hard to tell with that big hat in the way. “Didn’t realize you two played so rough _all_ the time....”

“Oh, yeah!” Finn-Ice replied, carefully stacking pillows into a fort wall. Of _course_ he and Simon fought a bunch! Simon was just so jealous and totally in awe of his majesty that it was no wonder he felt the need to challenge him by “liberating” all the awesome dogs he found and rescued from boring lives with boring owners. Hopefully, one day he’d see that it was a much better idea to become his dog-kidnapping minion and join forces, but that day had yet to come.

“It’s kind of a pain in the butt sometimes, but I gotta keep my totally buff physique in shape somehow!” He continued, flexing his muscles where the New Puppy could see them. There was no reaction, or at least none he could see. Finn-Ice made a mental note to confiscate that hat after Simon was dealt with so he could make proper eye contact with him for training. Eye contact during training was important!

“...I see. Well, from where I’m standin’, if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t benefit any from this arrangement other than a bit of exercise.”

“Well, _duh!_ ” Finn-Ice exclaimed, climbing into the half-finished pillow fort and continuing his construction efforts. “But that’s cool, Simon makes for a super-algebraic sparring buddy. Or a _alge-buddy_ , even.” Finn-Ice giggled at his own pun, reaching over a half-formed pillow wall for more building material. ”Besides, how else am I supposed to get stronger? I mean, sure, I could just go fight random people, but Simon comes right into the castle to fight me!“

“Yeah, but what happens _after_ you get strong enough to beat him?” New Puppy continued. “Does he keep trying to fight you or what?”

Finn-Ice, now fully walled into his fort, poked a slot in the wall for his eyes and rolled them at the New Puppy. “Hecks no! That’s when me and my awesome dog-kidnapping minion roam the land and collect all the puppies in Uuu! It’s gonna be _slamacow-frostyriffic!_ ” He was getting kinda tired of all these questions with obvious answers, if he had to be honest, but he supposed that whoever had owned the puppy before him hadn’t taught him about obvious things like this. “Now _shush_ , boy! I need to remain focused and vigilant, or Simon might beat me up, then drag you out of that cage and back to that gross junkyard your old owner had you guarding!”

O’Malley bristled at this. He was tired of a lot of things this unpleasant incident had thrown his way, and the frosty moron entombed in pillows repeatedly assuming he was a dumb animal was one of the greater peeves. “For your information, _your highness_ , I’m _mayor_ of that “gross junkyard”, and I’d rather be back there than rottin’ away in this glob-forsaken cage any day of the week! An’ as for that weaselly “dog-kidnapping minion” of yours-”

A loud snoring noise from the pillow fort interrupted O’Malley’s rant. He growled in anger, thinking the Prince to be mocking his frustration. After a moment, however, he realized Finn-Ice really _was_ asleep, lulled to slumber by the cosy walls of his impenetrable fortress.

“Focused and vigilant, huh.” O’Malley huffed as he sank into a sitting position. “Although I suppose I can’t blame ya- that boy’s takin’ his sweet time to show his face. Maybe with a little luck, he’ll have been eaten by some ice monster or somethin’...”

 

\------------

 

“OH YEAH, IN YOUR STUPID _FACE!_ NOT SO BIG WHEN YOU’RE MELTING ALL OVER THE FLOOR, HUH?”

Finn watched as Simon repeatedly kicked the pile of slush and scattered ice scales that had once been a massive snow-cobra. “Dude, it’s dead. You don’t need to rub it in.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t been chased by this thing every other time you’ve been here.” Simon said, giving the slush pile one final kick before turning his attention elsewhere. “You’re right, though. Gloating over finally kicking that monster snow-cobra’s butt can come later. For now, we’ve gotta focus on why we’re here. Where’s my bag?”

“Uhh...” Finn scanned the area, then pointed to a familiar chunk of ice, half-buried in slush. “Over there!” He pointed as he ran over to the spot, Simon close behind. “It’s still stuck in the ice, though... can’t we just leave it in there?”

“Normally, I’d say yes, but I kinda stuffed my lockpicks in there when that thing showed up. Didn’t have enough time to put them back in my waistcoat... plus, my nunchucks are in there too, and I don’t really wanna face Finn-Ice unarmed, even with someone else there,” Simon replied, kneeling by his frozen bag. “Maybe if we look for somewhere high up, we can drop it and let the fall shatter-WOAH MOMMA!” Simon leapt back as Finn struck the chunk of ice hard with the hilt of his sword, large cracks spreading from the point of impact. “...Ok, sure, that works too. Warn me before you do it next time, though!”

"Sure," Finn said, forcefully striking the block again. With a loud _snap-crunch_ , the ice block broke in two, freeing the bag.

Simon stepped forward again, kneeling and inspecting the contents of his bag. After a moment of rummaging, however, his face fell. “Ohhhh boy.” He pulled out his lockpick wallet, now looking worryingly frosty and battered. As he opened it, shattered shards of metal fell to the ground.

“Uh oh.” Finn winced. “I’m sorry, dude, I must’ve hit it too hard. I guess we should’ve found somewhere to toss it from after all-”

Simon sighed, picking through the remnants. “It’s fine... besides, your way probably had less likelihood of this happening than my idea. And we’re not entirely out of luck-” Simon held up two intact picks and one with half a handle. “- I’ve still got a couple left. Plus, it looks like all of my tension wrenches are okay. As long as I’m careful with the cage door, we’re still good!” He re-shouldered his bag and stood, tucking the heavily-reduced lockpick wallet back into his waistcoat. “Let’s get this over with. You don’t mind taking on your negaverse doppelganger while I deal with the cage door, right?”

Finn raised his fists excitedly in the air, grinning from ear to ear. _Finally,_ he was going to meet his frosty double! “I am _so pumped_ for this mirror match!”

“I should probably give you some tips on fighting him, though, just in case.” Simon said, the two walking back down the ice corridor they knew to lead to Finn-Ice’s main chambers. “First off: kicking him in the ankle works pretty well if you want a few free hits in, but he’ll come back even angrier once the pain wears off. Secondly, watch out for that right arm of his. It’s made of ice, its reach is farther than you think, and DO NOT LET HIM GRAB YOU WITH IT. He’s got a grip like a freakin’ clay golem on that hand.“ Simon made grabby motions with his right hand for emphasis.

Finn nodded. “Fair enough. Got anything else for me?”

“Kind of, but you might know about this one - I’ve noticed that when he’s charging up an ice-lightning attack, you can kinda feel it in the air just before he actually fires it off... that way you know how to dodge when he starts gettin’ all zappy.”

“Yeah, I noticed that one. Took me a while, though… I still can’t dodge every one of them, either,” Finn replied, a bit quieter as they approached the entrance to Finn-Ice’s chambers. “Anything else?”

“Nothing that you don’t probably already know, really.“ Simon said, similarly lowering his voice as he and Finn peeked over the side of the doorway. “I figure you’ve been fighting alternate-me long enough to know things like ‘knock the crown off’ and other basic stuff like that.”

“Haha, yeah.” Finn chuckled. “Can you see him?”

Simon scanned the area, his eyes falling on the bed. “I don’t think so. Unless he’s under that pile of gross old blankets and underwear on his bed.”

“Maybe he’s in the middle of a laundry run?” Finn whispered. He couldn’t think of any other reason for a pile of socks and bedsheets to be piled haphazardly onto a bed.

“Why would he make a laundry run when he probably knows we’re...” Simon paused, thinking over past experiences. “... Actually, okay, yeah, that’s _way_ too possible. He’s made worse decisions before.” Still not taking chances, he edged into the room carefully, picking his way through wayward socks and scattered papers. Finn followed close behind.

O’Malley didn’t rise from his position slouched against the wall as the two approached the cage, choosing instead to glower at them. “Oh, I take it this is the ‘rescue mission’? Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, son!”

“What, you’d rather be paper-trained by Finn-Ice?” Simon hissed, sizing up the new lock on the door. The basic shape didn’t seem all that exciting, but Simon had enough experience to know he’d never seen a lock quite like it before. If it had been any other rescue, and he’d had a full set of lockpicks to expend, he’d probably have thoroughly enjoyed the challenge. The way things were, however, it was probably just going to be kind of a pain in the butt to pick successfuly. “Or did you plan on escaping on your own?”

“Better than being fake-rescued by the Ice Prince’s crony.” O’Malley snapped back, not bothering to lower his voice. “An’ speak of the devil, why’s _he_ back in his stupid human disguise??” He jabbed a claw at Finn as he spoke.

Simon glanced away from the door’s lock and back at O’Malley, fixing him with a baffled stare. “Okay, _what?!_ ”

“Don’t play stupid with me, he all but told me everything about the little fake hero scheme you’ve got goin’ on here. What, was it too hard for you to go out and actually save people?!”

“Back up a bit, dude,” Finn interrupted. “What do you mean, human disguise? I always look like this!”

“Well, you sure were taller and bluer a few minutes ago, so forgive me if I don’t believe you.” O’Malley huffed.

“Okay, okay, wait,” Simon interrupted. Had O’Malley seriously come to the conclusion that he and Finn-Ice were doing some sort of dog-kidnapping scheme together? Not that Finn-Ice hadn’t tried making Simon and Gunter into his dog-kidnapping minions on several occasions in the past, but they’d never went along with it. “Just to clarify, Finn isn’t the same guy as Prince Finn-Ice. Sort of. He’s a version of him from an alternate universe, see, where-”

“ _BULL-HONKEY!_ ” O’Malley yelled, finally getting to his feet and stomping over to the bars. “What kind of fool do you take me for?! ‘Alternate universe’? Pfshh, like I’d really believe there are really two...”O’Malley paused mid-sentence, his eyes flicking between Finn and a point behind the two boys momentarily. ”...Okay. _Now_ I’m more inclined to believe you boys.”

Finn and Simon turned around.

Behind them, Prince Finn-Ice stood, frozen in mid-sneaking pose, a sock sticking to his sleeve and a pillowcase stuck on one of the points of his crown.

For a moment, nobody said anything.

“Oh, what the HECK, puppy?!” Finn-Ice was the first to speak, folding his arms and glowering at O’Mallley. “I was THIS CLOSE to finally managing to turn the tables on that sneaky butt and you ratted me out! You’re so not getting any choccy treats, miste-” The frosty royal was interrupted by a fist to the face, knocking him several steps back.

“DOGS CAN’T _EAT_ CHOCOLATE!” Finn thundered, pointing at the Ice Prince in dramatic fashion.

“It’s not _real_ chocolate!” Finn-Ice retorted, rubbing his bruised nose. ”It’s just some gross waxy stuff that kind of tastes like choco-- _wait_. You look familiar.” He squinted at Finn, tapping at his chin with a finger of ice. “Did we meet that one time Simon and Gunter watched my homemade tv show collection?”

“I’m you from another dimension - one where you’re not such a donk!” Finn raised his fists in a fighting stance, ready to take his doppelganger on. He couldn’t say he hadn’t sort of anticipated his alternate-universe self to be so... _Ice Kingy_ , but he’d at least hoped alternate-him would at least have been less of a letdown than the giggling, wide-eyed maniac standing before him.

“Really?...” Finn-Ice looked over at Simon, a semi-hurt expression on his face. “Dude, you swapped me out for a younger, dorkier model of me? _Really??_ ”

Simon shrugged, but didn’t turn away from the cage’s lock again. “Age doesn’t have anything to do with it, bro. Now the fact he hasn’t tried to make me steal any dogs or bombarded me with terrible puns, THAT might have something to do with it...”

“But my puns are _super cool!_ ” Finn-Ice looked positively offended.

Simon, on the other hand, shut his eyes momentarily and groaned, looking positively nauseated at the flagrantly unnecessary ice pun. “Finn, when you two start fighting, punch him once from me for that pun. And can I borrow that little flashlight of yours?”

“Oh come _on_ , if he’s really another version of me, he’ll find my puns _chillingly good_ too, right?” Finn-Ice retorted, shooting Finn his winningest, razor-sharp-with-missing-gaps smile. “Am I right or what, Less Awesome Me?” Finn gave Finn-Ice a look of utmost disappointment as he passed his mini-torch over, causing Simon to wonder if there was a specific term for feeling second-hand embarrassment over yourself from an alternate universe. _If there is, it’d probably describe how Finn is feeling right now..._

“Dude, no. Not only are you overusing those puns, but they’re just... they’re not even very good.” Finn shrugged.

Immediately, Finn-Ice’s hands crackled with magical energy, bathing him in a frigid blue light. “HOW DARE YOOOOOU!” he shrieked, flinging ice magic at Finn, who saw it coming and ducked, dodging it just in time. Not wasting time, he lunged forward and kicked the Ice Prince in the chest. Briefly reeling from the blow, Finn-Ice recovered just in time to block a second kick with his ice arm, which he then used to grab out at Finn, narrowly missing.

As the two Finns fought on, Simon turned his attention back to the task at hand, looking over his remaining tools. O’Malley glanced over, lip curling slightly. “Jeez, kid, that’s really all the picks you brought with you!?”

Simon didn’t look up from the lock, shining Finn’s mini-torch inside the keyhole and onto the lock from the side, in an attempt to get an idea of what he was up against. The ice it was made of, however, was too opaque to see much of anything through. “Heck no! The rest of them got smashed to splinters on the way here.” He said, noticing some scratch marks around the keyhole. “You tried to pick this before me, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s got some sort of magic timer on it that fills the cell up with ice when it runs out,” O’Malley replied. “It’ll give you about three minutes, but even without the finger-numbin’ cold that builds up in here, I ain’t fast enough for that… Oh, and I’m pretty sure there’s some kinda security pin about five pins in.”

_Three minutes… Okay, no problem._ Simon thought, inserting the appropriate tension wrench. In truth, he wasn’t feeling entirely confident - most of his normal tool cascade had been shattered - but he wasn’t about to let O’Malley know that, nor was he about to leave O’Malley trapped in Finn-Ice’s castle where he could manipulate the Ice Prince into doing terrible things. He was pretty sure a manchild ice wizard with reasonable combat skills would be capable of a lot more criminal activity than a curious six-year-old with agile hands.

As he started picking with the rake, Simon noticed the lock had begun to glow with a faint blue light. _Timer’s started, I guess..._

Behind Simon, Finn-Ice yelped in shock as he narrowly dodged a blow from the sword weilded by the shorter, less frozen him. Despite his best efforts to avoid the blade entirely, an inch and a half of his bangs fluttered, severed, to the floor like snow. “NO FAIR! Swords are cheating, man!” Simon never used swords against Finn-Ice! Sure, he used a lot of nunchucks, since that was what he was good at using, but _still!_

“What?! Don’t be a _baby!_ ” Finn scoffed, still looking for an opening to swat Finn-Ice’s crown off. “Can’t you just, like, make an ice sword of your own or somethi-”

Finn had been focused just enough on the crown and Finn-Ice’s head that he didn’t see Finn-Ice grab the blade of his sword until it was too late, frost covering the blade as the fingers stuck to it like someone’s tongue to a metal pole in December. Finn briefly felt the cold from the action spread through his hand before the sword was _ripped_ from his grasp with insane amounts of force.

“Oooh, is that demonsblood? Swaaag!” Finn-Ice said, admiring the blade briefly before pulling it off his icy fingers and unceremoniously tossing it well out of Finn’s reach. “Anyway, _nuh-uh_ , mister, if Simon doesn’t get to use big ol’ swords, then I don’t see why you get t-”

Finn darted forward, sliding on the icy floor like he’d done it many times before (he had, it was a very useful move to know when fighting Ice Royals) and slammed his heel right into Finn-Ice’s ankle.

As Finn-Ice howled in anguish and hopped around, Finn taking potshots at him with his fists as he did so, Simon hissed in irritation as the plug of the lock nudged along slightly, taking him off-guard and causing the head of his already-brittle S rake to snap off. “Dangit!”

“I told ya there was a trick pin in there, donkus.” O’Malley snapped through chattering teeth. A thick layer of frost was gathering on the walls of the cell, the enchantment evidently gearing up for ice-blocking the entire area.

“Yeah, I know! I was just expecting a serrated pin from Finn-Ice, not a spool pin.” Inwardly, Simon kicked himself violently. Spool pins were a lot easier than serrated pins, and the embarrassment he felt over losing a pick to one wasn’t helping his nerves. Perhaps that was the point of Finn-Ice including that type of pin in his new lock, to catch him off-guard? “Look on the bright side, though,” Simon continued as he inserted his half-diamond pick into the lock, “Spool pins are usually some of the last pins to set, right? So I should be almost done he-“

An unearthly shriek of rage tore itself from Finn-Ice’s throat, cutting Simon off. The frosty monarch, still slightly limping from the kick to his ankle, conjured a huge block of ice from the air and hurled it violently at Finn, who sidestepped.

Looking back briefly on hearing Finn-Ice’s yell and seeing the expression on O’Malley’s face, Simon saw the ice block coming, dropped what he was doing and ducked out of the way just in time to avoid it. The massive chunk of ice bounced against the cage door - shattering both the pick and tension wrench he’d left in the keyhole - then skidded back across the floor at high speed. Finn-Ice, too distracted by Finn trying to leap on his back and yank his crown off, didn’t see the ice block coming back to him until it knocked him clean off of his feet.

“An’ here was me thinkin’ that was gonna break open the cage for us,” O’Malley said, having also stepped out of the way of the approaching chunk of ice. “Guess he made the bars of the cage even stronger than I thought… Time’s half gone, by the way. Hurry it up, boy!” Indeed, the frost on the walls had thickened further, and was even starting to form in places on O’Malley’s hat and the long fur on his ears.

Simon ignored O’Malley and simply silently cursed Finn-Ice’s bad aim - or possibly _good_ aim, although he thought that might be giving him too much credit. He selected a backup tension tool and his last remaining pick, the hook-diamond with only half its handle, and after quickly pulling out the useless remains of the last pick, he set to work once more.

_At least now I know the layout of the inside,_ Simon thought as he quickly went through the pins in order, this time prepared for the slight shift when he hit the spool pin. Now he just needed to apply a bit more pressure, and-

_snap_

Finn, oblivious to whatever was transpiring in front of the cage, kicked Finn-Ice’s crown off the head of the prone wizard before he could react to being floored by his own attack. Jumping on his chest, Finn grabbed the front of his tunic. “Give up? I can keep punching you all day if that’s what you-”

Finn was interrupted by his own shirt being grasped by huge, frigid fingers. He had forgotten about Finn-Ice’s right arm. Finn had no time to react, only enough time to recall Simon’s warning - _its reach is farther than you think, and DO NOT LET HIM GRAB YOU WITH IT!_ \- before Finn-Ice wrenched him off his chest and slammed him into the floor like he was made of cardboard. Dazed, Finn thought he heard Simon yelling as the enraged wizard got to his feet, but he could barely breath, much less make out Simon's words. Finn Ice snarled and slammed him against the wall, crushing the air from Finn's lungs. Finn gasped for air and kicked at Finn-Ice, but his legs weren't long enough to hit him and he struck only air. He clawed at the icy fingers digging into his shirt, trying to dislodge them, but Simon hadn’t exaggerated - Finn-Ice’s grip was utterly unshakeable.

It was then that somehow, through the haze of being winded and half-stunned, Finn noticed something.

Within the joints of those fingers, tiny, faint sparks of frost magic danced, too small and too faint to be seen unless up close.  As Finn-Ice screamed the usual Angry Offended Crazy Wizard things that he’d heard a thousand times before from Ice King, Finn quickly looked up the arm to the wrist, then the elbow joint, and… yes, he was pretty sure he could see the same magic at work!

Finn remembered thrusting his sword into the source of a similar glow not too long ago, and what had happened to the creature that had possessed that glow. If he just had something to stab it with…

“FINN! _HEADS UP!_ ”

Both Finns turned their head to the source of the cry. Simon - the cage behind him wide open - held Finn’s demonsblood sword, tossing it towards the two of them. Finn-Ice tried to intercept the blade, but, apparently no good at catching things with his non-dominant hand, fumbled, leaving the blade to drop right into Finn’s outstretched grasp.

Not leaving the Ice Prince any time to react, Finn swung the sword as hard as he could with one hand, cleaving with a ferocity and accuracy borne of high adrenaline directly into the joint where the upper portion of Finn-Ice’s ice arm met with his elbow. Immediately, Finn-Ice’s forearm and hand crumbled apart into their separate components, the supply of magical energy keeping them together cut off. Finn dropped to the floor in a shower of icy finger-segments, landing on his feet as Finn-Ice stumbled forward, off guard. Seizing his chance, Finn launched a punch into the wizard’s gut, followed by a vicious headbutt as Finn-Ice doubled over. Not letting up, Finn finished off with an uppercut to the jaw, yelling as he struck:  
“AND THAT’S FOR THE BAD PUN!”

Finn Ice made a pained, surprised noise as the fist connected, crashing, limp, to the floor a second later.

After a few moments, Simon broke the silence. “...Wow. I was expecting you to just hold him at swordpoint until he let you go and then backed him into the cage, but _daaang_ , that works too!” He kneeled and picked up a fallen piece of Finn-Ice’s arm. “How’d you work out how to break his arm like that?”

“He had the same glowy bits of magic as before in the gaps where the bits of ice joined together,” Finn explained, “so I just figured it was kinda like the sentry bug things - break the glowy parts, and the whole thing falls apart.”

“Huh, that makes sense.” Simon then paused, looking thoughtfully at the piece of ice. After a moment, he looked up, something suddenly occurring to him. “...Wait. How did fight him for this long and never think to do that? I didn’t even know his arm _had_ any glowy bits!”

Finn shrugged. “I dunno. I only really noticed when I had it practically in my face. You haven’t ever looked at it up close?”

“That explains it,” Simon snorted, dropping the chunk of arm into the pile. “I try not to get within grabbing distance of that thing as much as possible. I guess I might have noticed it too if I made a habit of getting all close and personal...”

“Hey, I hate to interrupt your little wizard-punchin’ tactics chat, but my knees are still frozen to this floor.” Finn turned around, as did Simon - sure enough, O’Malley was trapped in a kneeling position in front of the cage door, the fur on his legs interwoven with residual frost from the lock’s powering-up. “Either of you gonna finish breakin’ me out of here, or am I gonna end up dead from the cold like that poor sap in the corner?“ He jerked a thumb in the direction of the battered and now frost-dusted wicker dog basket in the corner of the cage.

Finn approached the cage to get a better look. Lying in the dog basket, there was… _Woah, didn’t expect to see_ you _here!_ , Finn thought. “Okay, I could be wrong here, but I’m pretty sure that dog isn’t dead.”

“Looks pretty dead to me.” O’Malley replied. “You really think they’ve still got life in ‘em even with their guts on the outside?”

Simon approached the cage, taking a screwdriver from his bag as he walked. “This is all I have, but it’ll probably work okay as an ice pick… What’s were you guys saying about a dead- _oh!_ ” Simon’s eyes widened with surprise as he saw what lay in the basket, and he raised his fingers to his mouth, producing a piercing whistle.

O’Malley removed his finger from his ear, wincing. “...Okay, so that was entirely pointless, aside from givin’ me a bigger headache than I had alreadySWEETMOTHEROFGLOB--!” O’Malley jerked violently to the side, freeing himself (and leaving chunks of fur embedded in the floor in the process) as the previously-considered-dead poodle ambled up beside him, glassy-eyed, and gave him a curious sniff.

Simon suppressed a schadenfreude-laden snicker as O’Malley lay on the floor clutching his shins in agony, bending to pet the zombie poodle’s head as it approached him, tail wagging. “Geez, Schwable, you seriously slept through that entire fight? You’re getting way too used to being here, buddy.”

“Is he owned by Marceline in this world as well?” Finn asked, also petting Schwable, who gave Finn’s hand a wary sniff.

“Yep.” Simon grinned,

“Wait a sec,” O’Malley interrupted, sitting up. “Marceline as in Queen Marceline of the Monster Kingdom? You know _her?!_ ”

“We should probably stick around a while longer,” Simon continued, ignoring O’Malley. “She usually goes to rescue Schwable herself whenever Finn-Ice manages to capture him and I’m not around to fill in.”

“I guess she’s usually too busy with royal biz to do it herself most of the time?” Finn asked.

“Yeah, if it’s not official Monster Kingdom biz, it’s usually concerts. Plus, she kinda takes the overkill route - Finn-Ice might be a wad, but I kinda think breaking every bone in his body every time he steps out of line is too far." _Especially when it doesn’t even stop him trying again once he heals,_ Simon mentally added at the end. There was no need for Marceline to repeatedly maim a mentally ill old wizard when a minor pummeling had the same effect.

“Hey, c’mon, Simon, that’s not true,” a familiar voice said in a playful tone from the window. Simon and Finn turned around, and sure enough, the queen of the Monster Kingdom flew through the opening, evidently having finally found time to track down her pet. “I don’t break every bone in his body!”

“She does so,” Finn-Ice mumbled from his spot on the floor.

Simon rolled his eyes - He should have known that Finn-Ice was just playing unconscious so that Finn would stop hitting him. In Simon’s experience, Finn-Ice was pretty impossible to knock out for more than a few minutes, but he was at least usually willing to accept defeat when downed. Although, considering the towering rage he’d been in moments before, his now-missing arm might have something to do with it as well. At least this time.

For now, he decided to ignore Finn-Ice’s remark, instead turning his focus back to Marceline. “Hey, Marcy,” he said, grinning. “How long have you been home?”

“Since this afternoon, but I only just realized Schwable wasn’t in the castle garden a few minutes ago.” Marceline replied, floating over to scratch behind the zombie poodle’s ear.”  I’ve been up to my eyes in paperwork and royal stuff… It’s been kind of a drag. I didn’t expect to see you here, though... Bonnie said she wound up with two guys from an alternate universe in her lab yesterday and you were helping them get some sciencey stuff to send them back home.”

“Yeah, I kind of got sidetracked with one of ‘em.” Simon gestured towards Finn, who was currently eyeing Marceline’s crown curiously, as if he was surprised it was there. “This is Finn - Don’t let the name and hat fool you, in his universe he’s the human hero guy. Finn, this is Queen Marceline!”

“Wow, that’s pretty weird.” Marceline said, waving at Finn. “Hi, cooler Finn!”

“ _Cooler_ Finn?!“ Finn-Ice exclaimed, outraged. ”But I’m _prince_ of-” Marceline whirled round briefly to face the still prone Ice Prince, snarling with suddenly monstrous features. “Uh… I mean, carry on.” Finn-Ice muttered, shrinking back down to a faking-dead posture.

“Hi, uh, Queen Marceline!” Finn said, evidently not used to adding the title to her name. Simon hadn’t asked much else about the Marceline from Finn’s universe, besides her relation to Ooo’s version of himself. He wondered if she didn’t slay the vampire king in Ooo, or if she just never used the title there, not having a kingdom of her own.

“So... yeah, thanks for helping Simon get my dog back! Didn’t think he’d be available for it - Bonnie said you guys had gone down to Junkyard Town for spare parts...”

Suddenly, before Simon could explain, O’Malley stepped forward, tail wagging happily and flashing her a winning smile. “Ah, ‘dat’s ‘cause they were actually here to save me, matter of fact!” He said, doffing his hat. Simon gave him a confused look - not because he’d interrupted Simon before he could tell Marceline what a dirtbag he was, he’d expected that - but due to the utterly baffling change of accents. ”I’m Mayor O’Malley of Junkyard Town, Your Majesty, pleased to meet you!” O’Malley continued, shaking Marceline’s hand.

“What’s he doing?” Finn muttered to Simon as O’Malley introduced himself further to Marceline.

“Heck if I know.” Simon shrugged. He didn’t like the idea of O’Malley talking to Marceline. When O’Malley talked to people who didn’t know his tendencies, he tended to win them over, and that more often than not ended badly for the other person. Granted, he was pretty sure Marceline was too smart for that, but he could never be too sure what O’Malley had up his sleeve.

“And why is he putting on that voice?” Finn continued. “He kinda sounds like the secretary lady from that pre-war film about those dudes who trapped ghosts.”

“I haven’t seen that one…Sounds pretty cool, actually. When this is all over and done with, we’ve gotta trade movies some time.” Simon replied. He was also reminded of a character from a film, however - A robber from a pre-war film who had disguised himself as a cop in order to learn the security for the houses he was robbing.

It suddenly struck Simon that knowing about that film made O’Malley’s fake accent more appropriate than his natural accent, which he’d mostly heard in pre-war films coming from rough-but-heroic outlaws on horseback. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the conversation between Marceline and O’Malley.

“...But that’s all behind me now. And a few years ago, back in Beachtown. You ever get out that way? Real fancy buildin’s in the Penguin District! Or at least they was when I was hanging around there...”

“Psht, I used to hang out there. Not so much now.” Marceline grumbled. “I had a really cool retreat in the Penguin District for heavy jam sessions a few years ago, but someone broke into it and stole all my instruments! Some of those guitars were really rare, too!”

Simon’s eyes widened in shock.

_No. It couldn’t have been. It had to have been some other house._

“Geez, I think I heard about that,” O’Malley replied, putting his hat back on, setting it at an angle where Marceline could no longer see his eyes but the two boys could. “Some sneaky crook just picked the lock and waltzed on in, right?” He gave Simon a look. ”Did you ever find out who did it?”

“ _Dude,_ ” Finn whispered, nudging Simon gently with one elbow. “Is he talking about-?”

Simon didn’t answer, too blindsided by this turn of events.   _He’s bluffing. He’s trying to lead me on. It COULDN’T have been..._

“No,” Marceline sighed. “Lucky for them, I guess - If I ever got my hands on the jerk that did it, they’d beg for death days before I was done with them. Gotta make an example of them and all that jazz - Nobody steals my guitars and survives to brag about it, right?”

“Nobody messes with the Queen of the Monster Kingdom, I gotcha,” O’Malley replied. “Tell you what, though - I kept a good record of my dealin’s back then. Maybe I could look through what’s left of my old journals and see if any of the other people in the group I ran with had somethin’ to do with it? What was the actual address of this place, anyway?

Marceline scratched her head. “Uh… 18 Thackery Way, I think? Yeah, that’s it. 18 Thackery Way.”

For the second time that evening, as O’Malley looked over at the two boys again and winked, Simon’s guts froze over.

_He’s not bluffing._

 

\-----

 

_“So, just to recap here - there I was, with a suitcase full of lifted gems, three giant, angry-lookin’ kangaroo rat miners, bigger than I could handle even if there was one of ‘em, suddenly cornering me and demanding to know what I was doin’ on their land, right?”_

_“Woah,” Simon said, looking up from the padlock to the gate. “So how’d you get out of there without getting beat up?”_

_“Eyes on the lock, kid, I don’t wanna have to dig a broken pick out of there when I finally find my keys.” O’Malley responded. Simon dutifully switched his attention back to the lock.“Anyway, in situations like that, all you can really do is bluff as hard as you can - I spun some tale about being the local gem inspector - showed ‘em my driver’s license too fast for them to get a good look at it, that sorta thing.”_

_“What did they say to that?” Simon asked. “Oh hey, I got it!” The padlock to the gate clicked open._

_“Nice work, kid.” O’Malley said as he helped the boy push the gate open just enough for the two of them to squeeze through. “Anyway, they believed me. And maybe a bit too well, at that - next thing I know, they’re offerin’ me “samples” of their gems to “evaluate!” I wound up gettin’ out of there with gems twice the value of what I’d stuck in the suitcase.”_

_“Why did they fall for something like that in the first place?” Simon was pretty sure that if he’d ever tried to pass himself off as a gem inspector, he’d have been kicked clean out of Uuu by angry kangaroo rats. Not that he’d ever want to get into a situation where he needed to. Kangaroo rats were usually nice people, and it wasn’t like he wanted to steal any gems._

_“The right body language goes a long way when you’re tryin’ to pull the wool over someone’s eyes,” O’Malley replied as they quietly crunched their way up the gravel path. “The most useful skill I ever learned was gainin’ total control over my tail. Means I can wag it whenever I wanna look extra friendly… Although I guess you ain’t gotta worry about that one, what with no tail and all.” He looked around furtively, as if to check for intruders._

_Simon wondered if O’Malley might be worried about burglars. He’d heard Dad tutting over a string of robberies in the area mentioned in the paper that morning. Considering how many houses O’Malley owned - especially this one, which was beautifully built, and almost looked like a haunted house - he could definitely understand why the old dog was keeping an eye out for people who weren’t supposed to be there._

_The lock for the front door was trickier than the padlock, and coupled with the fading light of sunset, it took a little longer to open, even with less anecdotal distractions from O’Malley. Simon enjoyed every second, however - the challenge of working out just how to get the pins to set was part of the fun for him, and made the click as he finally beat the lock all the more rewarding._

_Simon looked around curiously as the two of them strode across the threshold. Inside, all the curtains were drawn, making the house feel almost cavelike._

_“Hey, Mr O’Malley, where’s the light switch?” he asked, peering into the gloom._

_“Leave the lights off, kid,” O’Malley replied as he headed down the hallway. “Don’t want the neighbors thinkin’ I’m actually at home when I’m just here to pick up some stuff - ah, here we go, jackpot!” O’Malley vanished through a doorway, and after a moment of further looking around, Simon decided to follow._

_When he caught up with O’Malley, he was taken by surprise. The room he’d entered was filled with instruments! And not just any instruments, either - he recognized the keyboard in the corner as a really expensive one that Gunter had been salivating over in a catalog, and he’d seen several of the guitars O’Malley was taking off of the walls in the same catalog with really big price tags. Simon wondered why O’Malley had turned to a life of crime when he could play so many different things._

_As O’Malley slung a couple of guitars over his shoulder, Simon approached a drum kit in the corner. He’d wanted to play the drums… maybe O’Malley could teach him more skills than just lockpicking._

_“Hey, Mr O’Malley, I didn’t know you knew how to play drums. Think you could teach me how?”_

_“Huh?” O’Malley looked up from setting down the keyboard, which had proven to be too much to carry along with the two guitars. “Sorry, kid, I don’t play.”_

_“Oh, okay.” Simon said, a little disappointed, but not too surprised. There was only one drum kit to many, many guitars. Maybe he only played guitar, and the keyboard and drums were for when he invited friends over for jam sessions. “How about guitar, then?”_

_O’Malley snorted. “Kid, I don’t play guitar either. These ain’t my instruments.”_

_“So why do you have so many of them in your house?” Simon frowned. Was he looking after them for someone? Or perhaps he just collected expensive instruments for some reason or-_

_“Hrm.” O’Malley looked thoughtful for a second, suddenlly mulling something over. “Okay. To tell you the truth, kid, this ain’t my house.”_

Not his house? _Simon thought._ But if it was a friend’s house, why wouldn’t they have given him the…

_Simon was silent for a long moment. Then, shakily, he spoke again._

_“...W-were_ any _of them your houses?”_

_“Naw, but my house locks’d be too advanced for you right now anyway, kid.” O’Malley responded, seemingly oblivious to the sudden look of infinite distress on Simon’s face “Ain’t bashin’ how good you are, mind you - thing about lockpickin’, son, is that knowin’ about it means you can make your own locks really hard to get through. We ain’t the only thieves in town, after a-”_

_Simon turned tail and ran before he could finish. With a growl of irritation, O’Malley unshouldered the guitars, leaving them on the floor as he sprinted after the human boy._

_Simon made it down the hallway (he lied he said he was RETIRED why did he lie) out the door (i helped him HELPED HIM how many people lost their stuff because of me) and halfway down the path (I THOUGHT HE WAS COOL) before O’Malley caught up with him, grabbing his shoulder and spinning the boy round to face him. “Kid, where the blazes d’you think you’re headed?!”_

_“The police!!” Simon shouted. “I didn’t wanna be a thief, I just wanted to learn how to do lockpicking! You LIED to me, and made me do…_ unlawful _stuff!!”_

_After a short pause, O’Malley let out a short, huffy sigh, giving Simon a stern glance. “...Okay, first off, keep your voice down. Now, fair enough, I lied to you. But lemme ask you somethin’, kid: When you go tell the police what happened, how’s it gonna sound when you say “I opened all those locks for Mr O’Malley, then helped him carry out all those stolen things to his truck”? Doesn’t look good for you, right?”_

_Simon bit his lip. He hadn’t thought about that, but he wasn’t about to let O’Malley get away with this so easily. “Yeah, but I don’t… I don’t need to tell them I helped you put that stuff in your truck! and-”_

_“Kid, if you don’t think I’m not gonna return the favor if you rat me out, you’ve got another thing comin’,” O’Malley snorted. “Then they’ll compare your fingerprints to the ones you left on the locks and the stuff you carried, and then not only will they know you’re a crook, you’ll be a liar too, and what’ll your folks think then?”_

_Simon couldn’t think of any way around that. He’d read books on detectives - fingerprints didn’t lie, and there were probably a bunch of other clues he’d left behind in all those houses. His bottom lip trembled._

_“An’ that brings me to another point, kid - when they find out you’ve gone all “unlawful”, as you said, they’re gonna start askin’ how you an’ I_ met. _Which’d lead ‘em back to the safehouse an’ the whole dang gang. Includin’ Gunter. You think your mom and pop’ll forgive you for gettin’ your brother branded as a crook as well? An’ more to the point... do you think_ he _would ever forgive you?”_

_Simon’s legs wobbled, then folded under him, and he collapsed to a kneeling position on the gravel. He looked up at O’Malley, eyes shining with tears._

_“I-I won’t tell anyone. Just-- I don’t wanna d-do this any more.”_

_O’Malley kneeled down in front of the boy, fixing him with a look that a hawk might give a cornered mouse._

_“Can’t let you do that, kid.” he said softly. ”You’re a vital part of this operation now… plus, if you do quit, I’m pretty sure I could frame you for the entire thing. An’ I’m also pretty sure that even if I don’t get linked to it, they’ll still look into how you learned to break into places, which, again, will likely lead back to Gunter and the rest of the gang. Tell you what, though,” O’Malley pulled Simon to his feet again, gently leading him to the truck, which was parked just outside the gate they’d entered through. “you ain’t in any state right now to help carry all those instruments. Go sit in the truck while I load it up, let all this sink in, aight?” He opened the truck door, let Simon numbly wobble into the passenger seat, then shut it behind him, locking it._

_Simon watched O’Malley head back through the gate, down the gravel path, and into the house that wasn’t his. Then, alone in O’Malley’s truck, with the smell of car, wet dog and stale chinese food, he started to cry. He was trapped. He couldn’t even just leave the car and run for it, as he had no doubts that O’Malley would make good on his threat to drag him down with him._

_Years in the future, Simon would lie awake thinking of comebacks to O’Malley’s threats -_ I’ll tell them you lied to me _being chief among them - but now, only one thought crawled into his six-year-old mind._

This is really all my fault, isn’t it?

_He’d known from the start that O’Malley was a crook. He’d known he was incapable of flawless lies and trickery, and yet he’d trusted him._

_Another thought slithered into his head unbidden._

Maybe this is what I deserve. Maybe I went along with it because deep down, I’m okay with it. Why else would I have thought he was so cool?

_he covered his face with his hands and_ howled _, more tears streaming down his cheeks._

I’m just as bad as him.

_He was unaware just how much time had passed until he heard the_ click _of the door being unlocked. By that time, his cuffs and nearly half his sleeves were drenched in tears and snot. As O’Malley flung himself into the driver’s seat, Simon looked up at him, red-eyed and soggy._

_“Got it all out? That’s good. Put your seatbelt on, kid. Don’t wanna get hurt if someone crashes into us, right?”_

_“I-I don’t-- I don’t deserve to be safe.” Simon sputtered out._

_“Kid, there’s a difference between “unlawful” and “lackin’ in common sense”.” O’Malley replied, reaching over and buckling Simon’s seatbelt himself. “An’ whaddaya mean, “don’t deserve it”?”_

_Simon took a moment to respond, sucking in deep breaths to stave off the tears. Despite how rotten he felt, something inside him did not want to be seen crying by O’Malley. “I was supposed to be_ good. _Like Billy the Hero. Now I’m… I’m.”_

_O’Malley sighed, digging in his pockets for the keys to the truck. “Listen, kid. Beween you and me? You’ve got a lot of talent, and even more raw potential. But it ain’t the type of potential for bein’’ like that Billy guy.”_

_He started the engine._

_“And to be honest... your skills’d be_ wasted _as a hero.”_

 

\-----

 

Simon stood at the window, watching the receding figure of Marceline carrying Schwable in her arms. Behind him, O’Malley stood, inputting Marceline’s number into his phone, and behind O’Malley, Finn stood, glaring daggers into the back of O’Malley’s head.

Finn-Ice still lay on the floor, too cowed by Marceline to even look up or say anything. He probably wouldn’t move until they’d all left.

“Y’know, I’ve never heard anybody call her _Marcy_ before.” O’Malley finally spoke, pocketing his phone. ”You two must be pretty close, huh?”

Simon didn’t respond. O’Malley clearly knew the answer, anyway. He hadn’t said much of anything since O’Malley winked at him, and still wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to say goodbye to Marceline without screaming.

“...You and your friend come quietly an’ maybe you’ll still be close when you’re let out of jail.” O’Malley continued.

For a moment more, Simon didn’t respond, hands gripping the edge of the window as he thought. Then, he spoke:

“I’ll… I’ll come quietly. But let Finn go home.”

“I don’t think so. Kid’s seen too much. What if he-”

“Look,” Simon said, turning around to face O’Malley, “Finn’s home is in an entirely different universe from our own, remember? So he’s not exactly gonna be able to tell anyone who can help me, right?” This wasn’t entirely true, but Simon wasn’t about to let Finn go to jail again due to him messing up a second time. And he was out of lockpicks, after all- he wouldn't be able to break the two of them out again.

“O’Malley snorted.” Fine. If he leaves town, an’ you come quietly, I won’t be givin’ your spooky royal pal a call.” He patted the coat pocket he’d put his phone in. “Same goes for if your brother, that talkin’ candy dog, or anyone else comes sniffin’ around tryin’ to bust you out or mess with my current operation. Got it?”

“So what’s to stop us from just punching you and taking that phone?” Finn snapped.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I can just recall the number and dial it from a different phone. An’ even if you punch the number out of my head somehow, I’m sure I can deduce where the Queen of the _Monster Kingdom_ lives an’ tell her in person. An’ I’m sure that beatin’ up an innocent old mayor like me will add even more tarnish to Simon’s seemingly spotless reputation, am I right?”

“ _Innocent?!_ You’re as innocent as a bucket of-” Finn’s words died in his throat as O’Malley took his phone out of his pocket. Instead of finishing the insult, Finn simply growled through his teeth and stomped to the other side of the room.

“That’s what I thought,” O’Malley said, putting the phone away. “Well, Simon?”

Simon closed his eyes. “....Fine. Deal.”

O’Malley nodded in approval. “Still a smart kid in the end, I see. Aight, let’s get outta here - the cold is really startin’ to seep into my bones… Hope there’s a quicker exit than out that window, I’ll be happy to be shot of this place.”

Finn was about to follow O’Malley and Simon when he felt a tug on his sock. Looking down, Finn-Ice was laying there propped up on what was left of his ice arm, beckoning for Finn to kneel down. Finn was halfway into the kneeling position until the thought struck him that, on some level, Finn-Ice was at least slightly like him. And therefore had some of the same ideas as him.

“... Okay, just to make sure: Are you just trying to get me to kneel down so I’m in range for you to punch me?”

Finn-Ice paused.”Well, I can’t say I didn’t _consider_ it...” Finn rolled his eyes, then made to stand up again, only prevented by Finn-Ice grabbing the bottom of his shirt. “Wait, wait! I gotta ask: What was that thing all about with Simon and that puppy? Seemed pretty heavy stuff for a puppy.”

“He’s… really not a dog you want, dude.” Finn replied.

“Not without serious training, anyway. He acts like a real downer for a puppy just now,” Finn-Ice said. “But real talk, Less Cool Me - is Simon gonna be okay?”

Finn paused. From what he’d seen of him in the letters and in person, Simon always worked out a plan to fix everything in the end. He was smart, and very good at solving problems.

But he’d also never been trapped quite like _this_ before.

“...I don’t know.”


	8. Basilisks, Alignment and Loud Screaming Fits

Nobody said anything as they passed through the castle door and headed down the front path, aside from O’Malley occasionally humming cheerfully to himself. Finn watched Simon out of the corner of his eye. It was as if Simon had become an entirely new person in a matter of minutes; instead of racing Finn across the ice in bounds, he trudged quietly through the snow, his eyes on the ground, as lifeless as Ice King in one of his depressive moods.

It was only as they left the Ice Kingdom and came up towards the narrow gorge that led into the valley that Simon showed any sign of being awake to the outside world. As the three of them approached the pass, Simon suddenly looked ahead sharply, his arm shooting out to bar Finn’s path like a guardrail.

“You hear that?”  
  
O’Malley had stopped as well, his neck craned forward as he sniffed the air ahead. “Yep. Pretty sure I can smell it, too.”

Finn was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to catch the same scent O’Malley could, so he listened carefully. “What am I listening for?” he whispered. “I don’t think I can hear any-”

Then he heard it. A sort of deep, almost thunderous, _warbling_ noise.

“Is… is that a _giant turkey?_ ” Finn asked. He couldn’t see anything yet, as whatever it was hadn’t come around the bend in the path, but it sure _sounded_ like a giant turkey.

“No. Slightly less scary than that,” Simon replied.

The warbling noise intensified. Finn drew his sword, ready to strike down whatever giant turkey monster might attack them.

The first sight Finn got of the creature was its large, puffy red head-crest as it came around the bend, the tattered, stained hide of what Finn was _pretty_ sure had been a deer clamped in its jaws. Currently, its attention was fixated on a pile of dead moss and ferns to the side of the path, tucked under a rocky overhang. It nudged aside some of the moss with its beaky snout, briefly exposing a clutch of what looked like pearlescent chicken eggs before it laid the deer hide over the glossy orbs like a blanket, carefully using the tip of its beak to tuck in the edges.

It looked somewhere between a rooster and a dinosaur. A _really big_ dinosaur.

Finn had never seen one in person - although he’d heard they still thrived in the colder climes of the Unknown Lands beyond the Ice Kingdom - but he’d read enough monster manuals to know a basilisk when he saw one.

Suddenly, the beast sniffed loudly, picking up their scent, and its head whipped around to face them with astonishing speed. It gobble-snarled loudly, glaring in their direction with all four eyes. Finn quickly looked at the basilisk’s feet - he didn’t know if the tales about them being capable of turning their prey to stone were true, but he didn’t want to find out first-hand.

“Oh for cryin’ out loud,” O’Malley muttered, yanking the brim of his hat down to an angle where it blocked his view of the basilisk’s face, “how’d you two manage to get through here with a basilisk nestin’ on the path?”

“It wasn’t here when we passed through…Well, the momma wasn’t. I wasn’t exactly looking for the nest when we came through this way, though.” Simon muttered. Finn suddenly realized he was looking _right_ at the creature’s face.

_Huh. guess the turning-to-stone part isn’t true, then._

“Must’ve been out hunting when you passed by.” O’Malley said, backing away slowly as he spoke. “Probably just came in to roost for the night if it’s-- “ O’Malley noticed where Simon was looking. ”Son, are you _tryin’_ to make eye contact with that thing?! Is gettin’ electrocuted an’ eaten _really_ better than jail?”

“I’m fine,” Simon said, starting to back away as well. “I’ve got basilisk lenses in my glasses - kinda cancels out the whole basilisk hypnosis thing.”

“Basilisk lenses?” Finn said, following Simon’s example.

Simon pointed to his glasses. “Long story short, they’re made outta treated basilisk eye parts. On top of the basilisk hypnosis resistance thing, they make way tougher lenses than normal glasses, which is the real reason I use ‘em, to be honest.” Finn remembered that he’d cracked one of those lenses earlier, and felt another pang of guilt for punching Simon so hard.

“Don’t those sorta lenses cost a small fortune?” O’Malley interjected. “If your brother’s anythin’ to go by, your family ain’t that rich.”

“Not if you provide the basilisk eyes, donkus,” Simon replied, rolling his eyes.

“You’ve taken down a basilisk before?” Finn said. “What’s the danger rating on those things?”

“About the same as a dragon, at least if you know what you’re doing.” Simon said. “I only actually go out looking to kill one when I need new glasses, though... unless there’s one terrorizing a village or eating sheep or something. Then that’s just hero biz and stuff.” Ahead of them, the basilisk stood growl-gobbling in irritation, the three of them not yet far enough away from the nest for it to let its guard down.

“I highly doubt you could take that monster out, kid,” O’Malley scoffed. “Although if you wanna prove it right now, I might just get those smashed specs of yours all fixed up for jail. I can still turn a profit with three basilisk eyes, after all.”

“I don’t have the right stuff for basilisk hunting right now… and like heck i’m giving you my glasses to ‘fix’.” Simon snapped bitterly. ”You’d just sell them _and_ the basilisk eyes.”

“I’d be _wounded,_ son, if that wasn’t exactly what I was plannin’ there.” O’Malley chuckled darkly. “Well, it was worth a try. “

Up ahead, the basilisk, finally satisfied that the trio of intruders was far enough away, issued a final warbling growl and turned back to its nest.

 

\-----

 

As none of them seemed to know any easy way around the pass the basilisk was now occupying, O’Malley announced they might as well find somewhere to wait out the night and simply pass by when the basilisk went out to hunt the next day.

All things considered, the small clearing in the brush further back down the trail they’d found made for a decent campsite, at least aside from the atmosphere of dread and worry that hung over two thirds of the people present.

“Darn shame you weren’t up to killin’ that basilisk, Simon,” O’Malley said cheerfully, adding more sticks to the fire and ignoring the glares Finn made a point to shoot at him every now and again. “Basilisk eggs’re real good eatin’ if you know how to cook ‘em right...”

“Why don’t you just steal some like you steal everything else?” Finn snapped.

“You ain’t ever dealt with basilisks before, have you? Full o’ vengeance when it comes to their babies.” O’Malley explained, sitting down with his back to an old tree stump.” They chase after anything that steals their eggs, an’ even if you run off a few miles you ain’t really safe. The eggs are full o’ somethin’ they can smell for miles and miles… ain’t sure what it exactly is, but-”

“‘s pheromones,” Simon muttered. For the past five minutes, he’d been sitting hunched over and apparently staring intently at his bag, which was sat in his lap. Even now, as he elaborated, he didn’t look up. “Like with bees. You know how when you kill a bee, the rest of the hive can smell it and it makes them come after you? Same sorta principle, just on a really long-distance scale.”

“Figured you’d know what it was exactly,” O’Malley said. He kept his gaze fixed on Simon. “...So, what exactly is so interestin’ about that bag? You’re starin’ at it pretty intently.”

Simon looked up for the first time, startled. He pulled his bag in closer. “Nothing. I’m not staring at the bag… I’m just thinking about stuff. Why?”

“Most people just stare into space instead of into their laps when just thinkin’, is all.” O’Malley replied as Simon stared at his bag with double the intensity. “An’ even if they do it’s not usually so focused-”

A dull, crunchy _crack_ emanated from the direction of Simon’s lap. He sighed in exasperation, lifting the source of the noise to glare at it.

“Et tu, pencil?” he gritted through clenched teeth. He sighed, roughly shoving the broken writing tool in his bag and digging around for another one. “Okay, fine. I’m _writing,_ happy?“ Simon held up a closed notebook, which he’d been propping up on his bag, for all to see, glowering as O’Malley smirked in response. ”Or I _was,_ anyway… don’t think I’ve got anything left to write with now.”

“I think I’ve got a pen in my bag, dude.” Finn said, digging in his backpack as he scooted over to where Simon was sat. “What were you writing, anyway?” _Tell me it’s not Fionna and Cake fanfiction_ , he added mentally.

“It’s just a diary thing… I’ve done it for years now.” Simon replied, taking the offered pen from Finn as he re-opened the notebook. ” It kinda helps me sort out my thoughts and work out solutions to problems, stuff like that… Actually, just writing in ‘em helps me calm down sometimes, which was kind of the idea before _someone_ decided to butt in.”

“Was only curious, Simon.” O’Malley said. “And ‘sides, I’m pretty sure you picked that habit up from me. Glad you took my advice, really… Too bad you didn’t take the parts about laws bein’ more like guidelines than rules. All stickin’ to the rules does for folks like us is hold us back, son-”

“I’m _not_ like you.” Simon hissed, snapping the notebook shut again. “And I’m not “taking your advice” or picking up your habits or whatever, I’m doing my own thing that just happens to be similar to something you do.”

“Not takin’ my advice, you say?” O’Malley scoffed.” You sure? Because I could’ve sworn you were payin’ attention back in the Ice Kingdom...”

Finn frowned. “Wait, what’s he talking about?”

Simon closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

 

\-----

 

snap

 _Simon’s eyes widened in horror. He suddenly felt very light-headed again._ No, _he thought,_ no no no no THIS IS NOT HAPPENING-

_“What’s wrong?” O’Malley said, kneeling down by the door. Immediately, he could feel the accumulating frost on the floor intertwining itself with his leg fur. “Kid, why’d you stop-”_

_Simon shakily held up the broken-handled pick, now broken at both ends._

_“So?” O’Malley retorted. “Grab a new one an’ finish the job!”_

_“I...I don’t have...” Simon mumbled, starting to breathe harder than he probably needed to._

_“What? Stop foolin’ around, Simon, time’s runnin’ out. pick up another one an-”_

_“I DON’T_ HAVE _ANY NEW ONES!” Simon yelled, not seeming to register the loud thudding noises as Finn-Ice slammed his friend into the floor behind him. “I told you! The rest of them got broken on the way here!”_

 _O’Malley huffed in irritation - apparently the kid still freaked out when his game plan fell apart._ That’s what stickin’ so hard to the rules does to you, kid! _he thought. He could say it directly to Simon later, when he didn’t need the kid calm enough to break him out of the cage. “I wasn’t talkin’ about the ones you brought with you, son.” O’Malley said in the most calming voice he could muster under such stress. “Remember what I always told you?”_

_He pointed down. At Simon’s feet lay a couple of scattered paperclips from Finn-Ice’s “training cheat sheets”._

_“...‘D-don’t be afraid to improvise.’” Simon stammered out, grabbing the biggest and sturdier paperclip. “Okay. Give me a moment...”_

_Somehow, Simon had managed to keep tension applied to the lock all through his minor panic attack, and by some miracle he also managed to keep the tension wrench in place as he used his free hand (and, at one point, his teeth) to bend the paperclip into a passable lockpick shape. Trying to push aside the encroaching disembodied feeling, he thrust the makeshift tool into the lock and applied pressure again - the paperclip wasn’t the easiest tool to do this with, a bit too flexible, but it worked well enough - and with a final click, the cage door shuddered open, the unnatural coldness in the air quickly fading back into the natural frigidity of a castle made entirely of ice._

_Simon leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees as he breathed a sigh of mixed relief and triumph. Ignoring O’Malley’s failed attempts to stand upright, he turned to see how Finn was faring against Finn-Ice._

_Halfway through turning, he realized that Finn’s demonsblood sword was lying nearby._ That’s… not a good sign, _Simon thought, reaching for the weapon._

_It was around this time that Simon registered exactly what Finn-Ice was yelling._

_“...AND HOW_ DAAARE _YOU MAKE LIGHT OF MY GLORIOUS PUNS!” Simon turned around - the Ice Prince had his uncursed double pinned up against the wall. It seemed Finn hadn’t managed to avoid the grasp of Finn-Ice’s ice-arm. “I’M GONNA SMACK YOU SO HARD YOUR NOSE WILL BLEED, AND THEN I WILL WRITE A WHOLE_ BOOK _OF PUNS WITH YOUR NOSE-BLOOD!”_

_Simon lunged for Finn’s sword, pulling it to him as he shakily got to his feet. It was too heavy for him to wield effectively himself, but not quite heavy enough to stop him from throwing it accurately to someone who did have the muscle to properly wield it._

_“_ FINN! _HEADS UP!”_

 

\----

“Dude, that totally doesn’t count,” Finn said. ”You weren’t even really telling him to do bad things.”

“You forget the part about how he was pretty much breakin’ out a confirmed conman from a jail cell?” O’Malley replied. “You could’ve just left me to freeze over in there.”

“Maybe, but that’s not what heroes do!” Finn said. “We couldn’t just leave you to freeze in the Ice Kingdom!” _or talk Finn-Ice into doing something worse than kidnapping people’s pets,_ he mentally added, “Even if you are the world’s biggest jerk!”

“Yeah, but whose idea was it rescuing me in the first place? Just a wild guess, but I don’t think it was _you._ ”

“Yeah, it was me, so? ” Simon snapped. ”It was only so you wouldn’t talk Finn-Ice into doing something stupid, not because-”

“Quit kiddin’ yourself, son.” O’Malley said, talking over him. “Know what I think? I think you’ve thrown yourself so deep in your little land of make-believe “hero” stuff that you won't even see reality creepin' up on you until it's too late. You really oughtta listen to me like you used to, kid, especially now - I'm just a long-overdue wake-up call.”

Simon was about to respond to this when O'Malley leaned forward, prodding the embers of the fire with a long stick as he continued speaking. A number of glowing motes of hot ash floated up from the fire, causing Simon to wince as the wind sent them vaguely in his direction.

“There ain’t no room for thievin’ urchins in the law’s heart, especially when the law finds out you hid the bad things you did for a long time.” O’Malley continued, standing up and stretching as he spoke.  “You're still the bookworm you used to be, right? You should know better than anyone how history always spits on crooks like us, even the ones who steal to save others. You wanna know how to stay happy, right? That’s what this is all about, ain’t it? You think savin’ the world’s gonna make you happy. The same world that'll eventually see you for you and hate you for it?” O’Malley snorted derisively. ”You wanna be happy, Simon, you stay with the people who take you for what you are. An' I think that deep down, you get it. _That’s_ why you came back for me.”

He turned his back on Simon and Finn, ignoring the looks on their faces. Finn's implied that he would very much like to tackle him to the ground and start punching him repeatedly in the back of the head. Simon's looked very much like he had taken said punches.

“I’ll let you think that over for a bit, but for now I’m gonna go check to see if that stinkin’ basilisk is asleep enough to sneak by. Or failin’ that, I might see if there’s another way around it.” O’Malley concluded.” Don’t you two go anywhere.”

And with that, he turned and headed back up towards the nest.

"Glob damage!"  Finn growled. "That guy's the biggest butt to ever butt in the existence of big butts!  You should've let me take a shot at his muzzle again!"  

Simon didn't respond. He was shaking all over, his head in his arms. He stared into the fire, his expression glazed.

"Simon?" Finn quietly inquired, concerned. He scooted over to his pal.  "C'mon, dude.  He threw some heavy stuff at you, but you've gotta shake it off."

Simon glanced up, still looking like he'd been suckerpunched. "I know, he just... He... that thing with the fire. He did it to cut me off, I just know it."

Finn suddenly remembered Simon's fire phobia. Suddenly, O'Malley's casual ember-stirring seemed a lot more intentional and malevolent. "...Dude, I didn't even realize... that was _so_ not cool of him!"

Simon stood, his legs still a little shaky. "Hang on. I just... I gotta do something here. don't freak out."

Finn shrugged, confused. "Uh...okay?"

_"THAT SON OF A BLEE-BLOOOOOOB!!!"_

Simon suddenly tore around the clearing, flailing wildly as he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"WHAT KIND OF ROTTEN SLIMY JERK DOES THAT?! IF HE WAS SCARED OF ANYTHING I WOULDN'T TOSS IT IN _HIS_ FACE, NO MATTER HOW MUCH OF A BUTTLORD HE IS! AND OH, OF _COURSE_ HE'D BRING UP THE FREAKIN’ NOTEBOOK, I MEAN IT'S NOT LIKE IT WASN'T A REALLY USEFUL IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE! AT LEAST MY NOTEBOOKS AREN'T FULL OF HOW I _RUIN PEOPLE'S LIVES_ , UNLIKE _SOMEONE’S_! RRRAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGH!!!"

Before he could continue his shrieky tirade, Simon caught his foot on a protruding root from the tree stump, sending him tumbling head over heels into a pile of dead leaves and ferns. He thrashed weakly for a moment, still making angry noises, then stopped.

"...Okay. I think I got it all out. _Phew._ "

Finn stared at him wide-eyed. "Dang man, and here I thought I got too angry sometimes!" He chuckled.

"Thanks for not laughing too much,” Simon said, sitting up in the leaf pile. “It's been building up ever since we got to the Ice Kingdom... Wouldn't have happened if I could've just smacked him one. At least if O'Malley heard it he'll know he didn't get me to cry or something." he snorted, resting his chin on his knees. "Not like I would anyway, though. I've kinda got an iron grip on crying, anyway."

Finn tried to give Simon his best sympathetic smile.  "I know this is gonna sound weird coming from a meathead like me, but if you ever have to cry because of this, it doesn't mean you're weak or anything."

Simon managed to crack a smile back. "Nah, I've cried enough because of that jerk. Besides, I'm more the angry type of upset. Even if he did kinda hit a nerve saying that stuff about people seeing the "real" me or whatever."  He sighed. "Especially after that thing with Marceline... figures that the only stuff I never managed to find and return was _her_ stuff, huh."

Finn's pricked up his ears at her name. "You said she was like your big sis, right?"

Simon nodded. "Yeah. Apart from that one time after fighting the Lich when she regressed back to, like, three or four... she was more like a little sister for those couple weeks. I guess she feels the same way about me, or that thing with the sweater wouldn't have worked."

Finn took a deep breath. "Lemme tell you something, dude. After the you in my world went full banay-nays, Marceline avoided you and tried to brush you off as annoying.  But in the end, she really did end up still seeing you as a second dad. I mean, your Marceline doesn't seem too different from mine, so if mine was cool with Ooo-you after whatever went down in the past, I think yours might not get as mad at you as you think she'll be."

"I guess so... At least if I'm the one to tell her. I just don't want her to find out via _that_ jerk." Simon said, indicating with his head the direction O'Malley had left. "He'd paint the whole thing to look super-awful and all my idea, and I'm kinda scared of what she'd do between being really mad at me and finding out what really happened... I guess I can deal with that mess whenever O'Malley lets me out of jail or whatever, though. Assuming he doesn't tell her anyway." Simon picked a leaf from out of his hair. "I wish I could figure out a way to fix this that _doesn't_ involve going to jail, though...”

Finn looked in that same direction. "I wish there was a way we could give him the slip right now, without him phoning her. Still no ideas?"

Simon stood up, starting to pace. "Nothing... nothing I feel comfortable with, anyway." He actually had a few ideas, but despite all the grief O'Malley had given him, the idea of feeding him to that basilisk was too unpleasant to consider. "Ugh. sometimes I-" He cut himself off.

"Sometimes you what?"

Simon groaned, sinking down to sit beside Finn. “...I just wish I didn't have to worry about being _lawful_ sometimes. It’s like, having to check my ideas to make sure I'm not gonna break any rules or get even more in trouble gets really distracting, but I've gotta do it or I'll end up like some sort of agent of chaos, right?"

Finn scowled. "I don't think you would. Besides, for all I talk about being super good, I think the alignment system can be a little screwy sometimes."

"I guess so." Simon said. "I've never really read up on it, since it seemed pretty straightforward... Betty keeps saying I should, though. I’ve just never gotten around to it."

"You're _kidding,_ " Finn laughed. "Your head's always in a book, and you _haven’t_ researched only one of the biggest adventuring things out there?"

"Well, like I said, it didn't seem too complicated," Simon replied as he picked up a stick from the ground and started drawing a line in the dirt. On one end, he drew a smiley face with a halo, and on the other, an angry frowny face with horns and fangs. "The way I heard it, at one end there's Lawful Good, then Neutral somewhere in the middle, then Chaotic Evil at the other end, right? and your alignment is where you are on the scale."

"What? No dude, there's way more to it than that! Ever heard of Chaotic Neutral?"

"Yeah, I think that's... here?" Simon circled a point off the center of the line, slightly more towards the frowny face. "More chaos means closer to chaotic evil, right?..."

"Not exactly. It's more like they do what they want, and then they let Good and Evil come after what they want." Finn looked pensive. "I think that's how I remember Jake and Mom telling it to me..."

"Sounds like Finn-Ice to me," Simon said, looking equally thoughtful. "I always wondered where he fit into it - he hasn't really been evil for a long time, just a pain in the butt due to extensive crazy." He turned his attention back to the lines on the ground. "So where exactly do I fit in here if I'm not lawful enough for good?"

"The whole lawful and chaotic thing doesn't really stop you being a good guy. Heck, going from your letters, you sound a lot like you're Chaotic Good." Finn replied. "That’s you don't really pay attention to the rules and just do what you think is the right thing."

“‘Chaotic Good’’...I've heard that term before." Simon admitted. "I'm not sure where it'd fit on this thing, though. The way Dad explained it to me, Chaotic was always on the Evil side of Neutral, but..."

"I don't think alignments can really be restricted to charts and junk, really. Heck, there may be alignments out there that we don't _know_ about yet!" Finn said.

"There's always stuff out there we don't know about yet," Simon said, smiling. "That's why I keep reading - to make sure there's less and less of the stuff I don't know about!"

“Heheheh, you neeeeerd.” Finn chuckled. “I’ve tried reading to get mondo-momma-brains before. All that I got was really bored.”

“That’s because you’re a great big meathead,” Simon snickered. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "So, if Chaotic Good is doing the right thing or saving the day while not letting rules or laws or stuff get in the way... then I've just gotta focus on the solution without thinking too hard about the rules I could be breaking, right?”

Finn nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Okay. Well, if… Hmm…”

Simon thought hard for a moment.

Then he opened his eyes.

"I think I've got an idea."

"Aww yeah!"  Finn held out his knuckles in front of Simon.  "Pound it, bro!"

Simon obliged, grinning as he gave Finn a mighty fist bump. "Okay, but it involves me running off out of camp for a while in order to execute my cunning and devious plan. I'll be back by dawn, but can you cover for me in case O'Malley wakes up before then?"

"Are you sure he'll fall asleep?"

"Probably. He might be pretty spry, but he's still pretty old, and you know how tiring getting trapped in ice like he did can be." Simon said, kicking off his shoes. "You're gonna need to play along after that - if we do it right, he won't see it coming and-"

Simon's head snapped in the direction O'Malley had left. "I think that's him coming back now," he breathed. He raised his voice, winking at Finn as pulled his socks off. "I really wish I knew, Finn, but it's hopeless! There's nothing we can do!"

Finn decided to play up his 'never give up' side for Simon's little act.  "Don't get your hopes down, man!"  He then assumed the classic dukes-put-up pose for emphasis.  "There's nothing fists can't take care of!"

"You raise your fists to me, son, an' I'll let the Vampire Queen take care of you both." O'Malley said, pushing through a clump of ferns and back into the clearing. "Can't get past that basilisk, by the way - it kept movin' like it was wakin' up every time I tried to pass it. Guess we'll have to wait for it to go huntin' in the mornin' before we can get by. He stretched, yawning. "Might as well catch some shut-eye before then."

Simon stood, his eyes fixed on the ground again. "'M gonna go for a walk," he muttered.

"Hey, can't let you do that," O'Malley said. "How do I know you're comin' back at all?"

Simon rolled his eyes. "Look. Even if I was willing to let Finn go to jail instead of me, which I’m not, you really think I'm gonna go far without my shoes or socks?" He pointed down at his bare feet. “Look, I’ll prove it even more-” He dug in his bag for a moment, his hand emerging a moment later with his notebook. “You once told me never to leave a notebook unfinished if you can help it, right?” He handed them to Finn. “Well, I’m leaving this unfinished one here. So I’ll have to come back if I wanna finish it.” He barged past O’Malley, roughly bumping into his shoulder on the way.  “Let me enjoy being outside while I still can, okay?”

“Fine, whatever. Watch where you’re walkin’, though!” O’Malley called after Simon, who had already vanished into the darkness. “Kid’s probably gone off to cry on his own like the last time. Else he’s finally started to listen to me and ran off to save his own skin… although that’d end badly for _you_ if he has.”

“I trust Simon,” Finn said, tucking Simon’s notebook into his backpack as he spoke. “He wouldn’t just ditch a buddy to save himself.”

“Says you, kid.” O’Malley settled back down with his back against the tree stump. “So what’s the deal with that sword of yours, anyway? Looks like Rubysteel, at least at the hilt,” he said, an unpleasantly curious tone to his voice. “Must be worth a fortune.”

“No! It’s demonsblood!” Finn exclaimed, then bit his tongue. Demonsblood was even rarer than Rubysteel, and he didn’t want O’Malley to suddenly decide he wanted both his friend in jail and his dad’s sword.

“Tch, never mind.” O’Malley huffed, pulling his hat down over his face. “Demonsblood weapons are too big a pain to fence. Always get the demon showing up and trying to get its blood back, an’ they’re impossible to deal with unless you know the banishin’ words. More trouble than they’re worth.” he yawned, evidently starting to feel the fatigue of the night’s events creeping up on him. “I’ve got some second cousin twice removed or somethin’ who got tangled up with one of those blood demons… she’s probably long dead by…” O’Malley didn’t finish his sentence, letting it trail off as sleep finally took him.

Finn watched the old dog sleep, idly wondering if O’Malley would notice if he drew on his face with a marker pen (If it had worked on Ice King’s beard, it’d surely work just as well on fur!). _Nah, better not. He might consider it a Marceline-phoning offence._

His thoughts turned back to Simon. Looking up, he realized the aurora was still visible, ghostly green trails of light playing across the stars just as they’d been doing when he and Simon had watched them a few hours ago.

_I hope whatever plan you’ve got is a good one, buddy._

 

\------

 

Getting past the basilisk hadn’t actually been too hard. There’d been another way into the valley, albeit up a steep hill, that O’Malley had either not seen in the dark, or intentionally ignored so he could get some rest.

Simon paused for a moment at the top of the hill to glance up at the sky. No matter how many times he saw it, the aurora never, ever got old to him, always there to remind him that there were still so many cool things in the world to learn about, even if he’d long ago learned how those lights in the sky worked.

Of course, tonight they were also a reminder that he probably wouldn’t get to see them for a long time if his plan didn’t work, but he’d rather not think about that possibility.

He took off in the direction of Junkyard Town, moving twice as fast as he would have done with Gunter or Finn tagging along on foot. His bare feet didn’t slow him down - if anything, being able to feel the ground made it easier to make tricky jumps

 _Okay, Simon, Let’s try this whole ‘chaotic’ thing out,_ he thought. T _ime to see how O’Malley deals with a ‘wake-up call’ of his own!_


	9. Notebooks and Forest Fires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The illustration for this chapter is by ( http://tablart.tumblr.com/ )! She's great. <3

Ol’ Baxter yawned blearily as he ascended the stairs separating his living space from the bar space. He’d long made a habit of waking just before dawn- it gave him extra time to eat breakfast, finish washing the glasses, and get ready for the morning rush of people wanting breakfast milkshakes and smoothies. One of Meryl’s less questionable ideas, he had to admit, even if the suggestion of mixed-fish smoothies was slightly worrisome. What was that girl’s obsession with fish? Even as a cat, he didn’t quite get it.

Baxter pushed thoughts of blended fish drinks out of his head as he passed the two visiting travellers, who had collapsed into a rootbeer-addled sleep on the floor at some point last night. He hadn’t had the heart to move them- or, indeed, the physical strength - so he’d just instructed Meryl to mop around them at closing time. Mentally he reminded himself to try and wake them before opening hours so he could clean the floor beneath them.

He stepped outside of the bar, stretching. Before he could enjoy the cool pre-dawn air, however, something brown and white and highly off balance collided with him, nearly knocking him over.

The brown and white something was bowled over by the impact, tumbling head over tail into the side of the wheelless caravan that made up the bar front. “Bax!”

Baxter sighed, helping his head-tilted employee to her feet. “Good morning to you too, Meryl. A bit early for you, isn’t it?” Normally she arrived a good ten minutes after he finished breakfast, but he wasn’t sure how early she actually woke.

"Yeah, I ate half a box of sugar cereal last night and wound up not sleeping... but that's not important just now. Follow me, I gotta show you something!" Meryl grabbed his wrist, leading him through town square and towards the front of Town Hall.

The two of them stopped next to the cart of scratching posts and gnaw-blocks, oddly unsupervised by anyone.

“Okay, so what, the Mayor left the cart out overnight? Maybe he forgot.” It didn’t strike Baxter as too unusual.

“Oh, who cares about that?” Meryl retorted, digging through the half of the cart dedicated to gnaw-blocks. “This is way more interesting than the Mayor leaving the cart out all night!” After a moment, she re-emerged with a faded red gnaw-block.

"Is that the one you want to buy? It looks kinda like the one you had that got stole a week ago," Baxter said. He supposed that was why she was up so early- to buy a replacement gnaw-block in her favorite color before work started. She could have waited until her noon break if she was that desperate.

"It does!" Meryl said. "A bit TOO close, in fact. I thought I was just lucky at first, but then I saw this." She flipped it over, pointing to some grey smears on the base of the block. “See that?”

Baxter squinted at the grey smearing, which turned out to be ink pen that someone had made a valiant effort to scrub away. “Oh yeah… says ‘Pro… property of... _M-something-something_...’ I can’t make the rest out, but I get what you’re saying.” Baxter raised an eyebrow. “Wait, If this was stolen from you, how’d it end up in the second-hand cart?”

“I dunno.” Meryl shrugged. “Maybe whoever stole them is sellin’ ‘em back to the Mayor or something.”

Baxter frowned. “Maybe. Or it could’ve been run through a fence first, and yours was the only stolen one he picked up from wherever he gets ‘em.” Baxter turned and started walking back into town, Meryl following him. “Let’s go ask around, see if anyone else recognizes their stuff.”

“Yeah, I can’t be the only person who wrote my name on my stuff!” Meryl said, hefting her reclaimed gnaw-block under her arm. “Besides, the Mayor’ll wanna hear about this. Poor guy’ll be so cheesed off when he finds out he got roped into criminal business again.”

The Town square was still relatively empty, aside from the slumbering rat lady behind the snack food stand and the local baker, who was quietly grumbling to himself as he picked up pastries that had been somehow scattered about last night. Neither seemed in the mood to assist them.

“Maybe we should put a note on the signpost,” Meryl suggested as they neared the center of the square. The signpost was quite commonly used by the Mayor as a town noticeboard. “I’m sure the Mayor won’t mind if it’s so important, right?”

"I think we’ll be fine. He'd want to know if criminals were using him, anyway..." Baxter said, started digging in his pocket for a pen as he approached the signpost.

Then he stopped. He looked up at the post.

"This wasn't here last night, was it?"

 

\-----------

 

“Wake up, kid.”

Finn was woken by a sharp flick on the nose. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of O’Malley standing over him in the morning twilight.

“Notice somethin’ missin’?” O’Malley continued, gesturing across the small campsite. Evidently, Simon had yet to return. “He wasn’t here when I woke ten minutes ago needin’ to use a tree, either.”

“Dude, he’ll be back any minute now. I mean, he was here when I fell asleep… Maybe he’s gone for another walk,” Finn said, yawning as he sat up. He wasn’t sure if O’Malley would buy his lying, being so good at lying himself, but it was still better-sounding than “Simon ran off last night to ruin all your junk and I haven’t seen him since.”

“Yeah, and how long ago was that?” O’Malley retorted as he knelt next to the embers of the fire, tossing a handful of fresh kindling on them. “Must’ve been a while if you managed to drop off.”

“I dunno,” Finn said, shrugging. “Can’t have been that long ago if the sun hasn’t risen yet.”

O’Malley looked up from blowing on the embers long enough to shoot Finn an exasperated glance. “Son, you don’t have to cover for him.”

“What?”

“You didn’t stop to think he might’ve taken my advice from last night to heart and just made a break for it?” O’Malley raised an eyebrow at Finn’s suddenly thunderous expression. “Naw, seriously, think about it- if you’re from a whole different universe, why’s he got any stake in what happens to you? Doesn’t affect him or his “hero” cover story if you take the heat for him, right?”

“Simon’s my friend,” Finn replied quietly, holding back the urge to shout the statement in O’Malley’s face. “I trust him.”

“Really? The way you were talkin’ about him when we caught the two of you yesterday, you’ve only known him for a day.”

“That was before I found out he was my penpal.” Finn said. “Turned out I’ve been talking to him for a few months now.”

“Through _writin’?!_ ” O’Malley snorted derisively as he finished adding sticks to the rekindled fire. “Kid, you can’t really know someone through letters they write to you- ain’t no way to read the tone in their voice or even pick stuff up off their body language. Lyin’s too easy when it comes to letters written to people. Doesn’t really count.”

Finn glowered over at O’Malley, resting his chin on his arms. “Whatevs, man. There’s some things you can’t fake, and being a super-math hero dude is one of them.”

“Says you,” O’Malley retorted. “Can you really see that scrawny kid slayin’ a dragon? He left it to you to beat up that Ice Prince, remember?”

“Hey, we fought an icy bug monster and a giant snow cobra-thing together on the way up there!” Finn said.

“Really?... An’ did he actually fight those monsters, or just run around distractin’ ‘em while you did all the heavy punchin’?

Finn paused. Now that O’Malley mentioned it, Simon _had_ acted mostly as a distraction during those two battles. He’d taken a more active role in taking out the two guards in jail, sure, but when it came to the really big, scary monsters…

“AGH, DANGIT!”

Finn was jerked back to reality by O’Malley’s cry. Simon had returned, carrying a couple of bundles wrapped in large leaves, and had decided to announce his presence by bumping roughly into O’Malley again on his way into camp. He flopped down onto the log beside Finn, not making eye contact with either him or the old dog sitting opposite.

“You get real uncivilized when you’re upset, y’know that son?” O’Malley snapped, rubbing his side. “You know what you could’ve… wait, the heck’ve you been, anyway?”

“Went for a walk… wound up going down by the beach,” Simon said quietly as he unfolded the smaller of the leaf-bound bundles. Inside was a handful of long, almost rectangular shellfish, glittering wetly in the light of dawn. “There’s some chestnuts we can roast in the other packet, too… Figured I might as well get a decent breakfast for-”

“An’ you went to all that trouble for me?” O’Malley crowed, swooping forward onto the shellfish and gathering them up. “Well picked, too- I ain’t seen razor clams this big in a mule’s age!”

“Dude!” Finn snapped. “He didn’t say they were for you!”

“Yeah, I gathered all of those for me! You know, for my last meal as a free-” Simon trailed off abruptly as O’Malley reached into his inside coat pocket. “I… Fine. Have them,” he concluded quietly, sinking his head into his hands.

“Dang straight I will,” O’Malley said, scraping the ground next to the fire clear of debris and laying the razor clams in a row. “An’ now I think about it, them chestnuts’ll do for road eats… better get some more wood on the fire so we’ve got enough embers, now I think about it…” he muttered to himself as he piled hot ash on the shellfish. “Hey, Finn, was it? Go get some more wood… and don’t be gone more than five minutes. I wanna make it back into town before noon, y’hear?”

Finn suppressed the urge to tell O’Malley to get his own dang wood and tell him where to stick it as he got to his feet. He glanced over at Simon, who hadn’t moved his head out of his hands. _Did his plan get skronked up by something? He seems just as upset as last night…_

Then, for a moment, Finn saw Simon peek at O’Malley from between his fingers, eyes focused intently on the old dog’s cooking. Finn then remembered that for Simon, there was more of interest at the beach than shellfish.

_Like the ocean._

“Hey, before you go,” Simon said, looking up. He’d seen Finn glance over. “Can I have my notebook back? ‘S not like I’m gonna go anywhere else now, is it?”

Finn sighed. “Sure.” He dug around in his backpack, retrieved the notebook, and handed it to Simon.

As he handed it over, he could have _sworn_ that Simon winked at him.

 

\---------

 

It took a full twenty minutes for the chestnuts to fully bake, during which all they could do was watch O’Malley gorge himself on the cooked razor clams as their bellies rumbled. Then O’Malley kicked some dirt over the remnants of the fire- followed by Simon putting his shoes on and stomping on it a few times - and they set off back up the path.

It quickly became apparent that the basilisk path was not safe during the day. If anything, the warbling terror had become even _more_ agitated overnight, gobbling furiously at their approach and showering the area with white-hot sparks, an act that caused Simon to back away rapidly, his face gaunt as he dragged Finn back by the sleeve as well.

“Somethin’ must’ve done somethin’ to spook it real good while we were asleep,” O’Malley said as they searched for another path. “Maybe some critter had the bright idea of makin’ off with some of its eggs...”

“It’ll regret that later,” Simon muttered, trailing behind them. He’d hardly spoken since they broke camp, almost as subdued as when they’d made their exit from the Ice Kingdom last night.

“Unless the critter plans to throw them at some predator,” O’Malley replied through a mouthful of chestnut. He’d stuffed his pockets full of the things. “Most critters ain’t that smart, though.” He pointed ahead of them, towards a path leading up a steep hill. “That path looks like it leads into the valley- c’mon an’ pick up your feet, boys, you’re both trailin’ too far behind. Don’t wanna be late, do we, Simon?”

“I’m pretty sure Simon won’t mind if we’re really really super late.” Finn said. Simon managed to crack a half-smile, nodding in affirmation.

“Fine, let me rephrase-” O’Malley snapped, rounding on the two of them. Simon’s half-smile vanished instantly. “What I meant was, _I_ don’t wanna be late. See, there’s always a noon rush of people buyin’ “new” blocks an’ posts, and since it’s gonna take at least an hour to process Simon back into jail properly, I’ll say it again- I wanna be in Junkyard Town before noon. So y’all are gonna hustle yer bustles at my pace instead of yours, preferably with less runnin’ of that smart mouth of yours. An’ if you don’t like those terms, I’m sure I can make a phone call that’ll change your minds, you get me?”

Finn gritted his teeth. “I get you.”

“Good.” O’Malley turned and started picking his way up the steep path. As they followed, closer behind than before, Finn gave Simon a hopeful glance.

In response, Simon looked away, muttering what sounded like an apology under his breath. _Don’t tell me I imagined him winking earlier!_ Finn thought.

It was then, as Simon shifted his bag strap, Finn caught a glimpse of something new inside.

Something dark, bound in gilded cord.

 

\------

 

The trip back to Junkyard Town was mostly uneventful, aside from O’Malley’s cheerful goads at Simon and attempts at sparking a conversation (which mostly ended in him cheerfully goading Simon through a mouthful of roasted chestnut). Finn was finding it harder and harder to suppress the near-overwhelming urge to punch all of the smugness out of him, especially as it seemed like Simon shrank a little with every jab O’Malley flung at him.

As they passed the rusted, half-buried tank they’d had lunch on yesterday- _had it really been only yesterday?_ \- O’Malley started up again.

“Y’know, as much as I’m willin’ to let sleepin’ folk lie on the whole thing with the instruments - at least, as long as you keep your mouth shut- you better hope your royal pal ain’t about to come lookin’ for ya outta worry or anythin’.”

Simon looked up sharply, suddenly distraught. “I… she might come looking if she needs my help. Why-”

“Well, you better hope she doesn’t, or I’ll have to explain to her that you’re in jail for stealin’ posts an’ blocks. It ain’t exactly the theft of her instruments, sure, but I’m bettin’ she’ll find it hard to look at ya the same way again,” O’Malley chuckled as they approached the turn in the path, picking the shell off of the last of the chestnuts open with a stiff claw. “Might be better off for you in the long run to just embrace the whole criminal lifestyle like you should’ve done in the first place, especially since you’ll have to deal with other crooks that get thrown in there sooner or later. They don’t care for hero-types on the insid-huh?”

A soft, choked noise had started halfway through O'Malley's speech, and was now loud enough that it was clear to both Finn and O’Malley where it was coming from: Simon. Fat, inelegant tears were rolling down his cheeks and mouth as he walked, and he made no attempt to hide the shaky sobs that wracked his entire body.

O’Malley merely shrugged, popping the peeled chestnut in his mouth. “Yeah, an’ you might not wanna cry down there either, son. ‘Least not while anyone can see or hear it.”

Finn reached over to Simon, putting a hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what he could say to make Simon feel better, or if there was even anything that could be said, but he wanted to try. “H-hey, Simon-“

Simon jerked away from Finn’s touch. “D-don’t,” he stammered. “Please.”

Finn sighed, glaring ahead venomously at O’Malley as they rounded the turn in the path. He didn’t know how, but he was going to stay in Uuu until he worked out a way to get Simon out of jail and to trick O’Malley into a position where giving him a massive beatdown wouldn’t result in ruination for Simon’s reputation.

As they passed the WELCOME 2 JUNKYARD TOWN sign and came within view of Town Square, they could see a large group of people standing around the signpost.

“I see Keith and Nick woke up alright after the pasting you gave ‘em,” O’Malley said, spotting the huge cat-man in the crowd, even from that distance. “Must’ve gotten together a search party once they woke up and found me gone.” O’Malley waved, shouting to the group. “Boys, I’m over here! I just went off to track down-”

O’Malley stopped dead in his tracks. He had seen what everyone had been looking at.

“... _Son of a lady,_ where’d they get that?!”

 

\----------

 

_"...This wasn't here last night, was it?"_

_Someone - presumably the Mayor, as it was in his handwriting - had pinned not just a piece of paper, but an entire book to the signpost, the pages fluttering in the wind._

_“Not even when I left the bar,” Meryl affirmed as Baxter examined the notebook. There were several sticky notes inserted at certain points, which Baxter assumed were especially relevant pages the Mayor wanted to be read. Baxter picked one and flipped to the noted page, holding it open with one paw._

_“Looks like a list of all the houses in town, and-wait. Why’s he got a note about the loose window in the bar’s cellar?”_

_Meryl poked her head under Baxter’s elbow, being too short to look over his shoulder. “I dunno. What else does it say?”_

_“‘Use unwound wire hanger to unlock left hand door’... ‘uses scratching post as doorstop, just wait until they’re distracted’... ‘lock simple enough to pick quickly, hides gnaw-block under bed’... ” Baxter trailed off, flipping to another bookmark. On this page were pasted cut-out articles from magazines, detailing how to re-cover worn scratching posts and how to disinfect used gnaw-blocks. Another bookmark had a map of town with several points circled- one in the place with the bikes with “under walkway” written next to it, one on the pile of buses the mayor had claimed too unstable for habitation…_

_The last bookmark was at a page with an amatuer, but legible rendition of the mayor sitting in a pile of money and steak dinners, little stick figure cats and rats tossing more money and steak at him. Below the drawing, There was something written in the Mayor’s handwriting:_

_‘ENJOY YOUR STOLEN STUFF, SUCKERS!’_

_“...Geez, was marking that last one even necessary?” A voice croaked behind them. Meryl and Baxter turned- It was Keith, one of the Mayor’s right hand men. He looked significantly less clean-cut than usual._

_“Keith, how long’ve you been lookin’ over our shoulders?” Meryl huffed. “And what happened to you?”_

_“Long enough to know those probably weren’t the block-and-post thieves we had trouble with last night.” Keith replied._

_“Say what?”_

_“Boss had us bring in two kids we found at that under-the-walkway place on the maps yesterday… startin’ to think they weren’t lyin’ about just wanderin’ down there, though. Especially now I’ve seen this from the boss’s own handwritin’.”_

_“Two kids?” Baxter repeated. “I think I might know a couple of friends of theirs… I’ll go an’ wake ‘em up, let ‘em know what’s goin’ on. You two should go make sure we ain’t makin’ some sort of mistake here- Meryl, check the markers on that map for anythin’ suspicious. And see if you can get into the Mayor’s office without breakin’ the door down, Keith.”_

_Baxter watched the two of them leave, Meryl heading for the bus pile, Keith heading back towards town hall, where his hulking partner sat in the doorway holding an ice pack to his head. Sighing and hoping he was wrong, he turned and headed back to the bar._

_He had a feeling that no matter what happened, they were going to need some backup._

 

\--------

 

O’Malley quickly realized several things in a matter of seconds.

One, his private notebook, full of details on his scheme to sell the town their own belongings back to them (and several unflattering doodles he’d drawn of the process), was on full display in town square

And two, he could pick out both Gunter and his stretchy-armed drinking buddy from the night before in the now-advancing group of of residents. Every single one of them looked upset, and were looking straight at him.

Sensing that he should probably run as fast as he could before they got to him, O’Malley took a step backwards, preparing to flee, when he felt something sharp jab between his shoulderblades.

Turning his head to look, he realised a third thing: Simon was holding a sword to his back. He was no longer crying, and the other boy was grinning from ear to ear like the two of them had just tamed an Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant.

“What’s the hold up, bro?” Simon said. “I thought you wanted to be back in town by noon.”

O’Malley curled his lip in irritation. “That’s a heck of a lie you told back in camp, son.”

“Nah, I didn’t lie- I told you, I went for a walk...”

 

\------

 

_Simon poked his head out of the doors of town hall. He wasn’t quite sure what time it was, but town square was utterly deserted aside from the sleeping snack food stand attendant. Quickly, he trotted over towards the signpost, flicking through his prize. Every time he found a particularly incriminating page- or, in one case, a hilariously on-the-nose doodle- he stuck a sticky note at the top of the page as a marker. That way the townsfolk didn’t have to rifle through the whole notebook to get the idea._

_The notebook had been laughably easy to find for such an incriminating item. Once he’d dealt with the locked door to O’Malley’s office, it had been lying right on his desk. He must have put a lot of stock in the idea that the townsfolk trusted and respected him too much to nose through his stuff, even out of curiosity._

_The fact he’d been completely right made Simon’s bile rise a little. Although, he had to admit, that there was a bit more than he expected of things other than criminal activity documented in this notebook..._

 

\--------

 

“All the way into town and back?” O’Malley gave Simon a disbelieving look.

“Okay, fine, I _ran_ , same sort of thing.” Simon shrugged.

“An’ where’d you get that sword from?” Even in such a precarious position, he couldn’t help but notice the blade looked both exotic and expensive.

“I told you, I went down to the beach...”

 

\--------

 

_“Sorry to wake you so early about this, it’s kind of an emergency.”_

_“Don’t worry about it!” The figure beneath the water said, her voice emanating from the surface ethereally. “I was up watching some samples anyway. You kinda look like you could use the sleep more than me, anyway… You’ve got big dark circles ‘round your eyes like a panda cory,” she laughed._

_Simon rubbed at his eyes. “I’m fine, really… Most of it’s just bruises, though - I got hit pretty hard hard in the face earlier.”_

_“Oh geez. Well, hopefully this’ll make sure you don’t get hit again!” The girl beneath the waves raised an arm above the surface, holding a dark blade within Simon’s reach._

_Simon took the sword - his sword - from her grasp, feeling its familiar weight. The black blade glimmered with an unnatural reddish sheen in the light of the aurora. Forged from “the bone of the drowned god”, it was only at its absolute sharpest when recently soaked in fresh seawater. It was for this reason he usually left it with his girlfriend when he didn’t need it._

_Simon suddenly remembered something. “Oh, I just had an idea! How’s that hammerspace sheath you were working on? I wanna try it out.” It might not have been as long as Finn’s demonsblood sword, being more built for one-handed combat instead of two, but O’Malley was still likely to notice if Simon suddenly had a blade on him. He’d be able to hide the whole thing inside his bag easily if he could reduce its length to just the sheath._

_“It’s called a dimensional portal scabbard… but I gotta admit, that’s a pretty cool name for it,” Betty giggled. “Anyway, it’s_ sorta _working, but I need a better energy setup for it to be sustainable - the power needed to draw the blade out of the portal drains the battery too much. If you wanna use it now, you won’t be able to re-sheathe it if you draw it.”_

_“That’ll work,” Simon replied. “I don’t think I’ll need to hide it again once it’s out anyway.”_

_“I’ll have to swim back to my house to get it. Shouldn’t take me more than ten minutes to get there and back, though. You gonna be okay waiting?”_

_“Sure! I need to gather a few razor clams anyway.” Simon replied, getting to his feet._

_“Why? I thought you didn’t like clams.”_

_“I don’t. I know someone who does, though… And it’ll be harder for them to run away from an angry mob on a full stomach.”_

 

\---------

 

“...I’ve got connections at the beach.” Simon concluded.

“One more question,” O’Malley said. The gap between them and the mob was rapidly shortening as the mob stampeded towards them. “How’d you get into my office? I locked the door.”

“I unlocked it, donkus,” Simon said.

“With a _paperclip?!_ ” O’Malley scoffed. He’d put together that lock himself, and while he could admit Simon was good, he found it hard to believe he was _that_ good, especially with no proper lockpicks.

“Look, as much as I’d like to stand here and tell you every tiny detail of my awesome plan, you’ve got an appointment with a jail cell. Besides, my sword arm’s starting to get tired-”

Simon had forgotten how quickly O’Malley could move. With blinding speed, the old dog whipped around, slamming the side of his paw into Simon’s shoulder and grabbing the sword from his numbed, frozen hand in one swift movement. Yelling, Finn rushed to strike O’Malley, only to strike nothing as O’Malley ducked his fist, tripping him with a sweep of the leg, and dashed off into the forest. With a cry of “Mother-GET BACK HERE WITH THAT!”, Simon charged after him, holding his stunned shoulder. The mob reached where they’d been just as Finn got to his feet.

“Hey, Finn!” Jake yelled over the mob’s yelling. “Where’d you get to last night?”

“I had to go punch my alternate-dimension self in the face!” Finn replied, jumping on Jake’s back as he grew to the size of a horse. “It’s a long story- I’ll tell you about it when we catch up to that dude in white and introduce him to my FISTS OF JUSTICE PUNCHES!”

“Oi, I called dibs on punching O’Malley last night!” Gunter protested, having grown larger himself in order to keep up with everyone else. On his head sat an old ginger cat and a rat girl with a head-tilt.

“We’ve gotta find him before we can punch ‘im, guys!” the old cat on Gunter’s head interjected. “Everyone! Spread out- we’ll flush him out by sundown, even if we have to search the entire valley!”

 

\------

 

O’Malley gasped raggedly as he charged headlong through a clump of ferns, his thoat burning with exertion. When he’d been younger, he’d have already covered twice the distance, but the years were starting to catch up to him. It was part of the reason he’d bothered with such an elaborate cover.

 _Then again, even back in the day I’d have had trouble ignorin’ this doozy of a stitch,_ O’Malley thought as he clutched his side. He was starting to suspect that Simon had fully intended for him to claim those razor clams and chestnuts. The boy knew he couldn’t resist snatching up a good meal, especially when it practically fell into his lap like that.

He still grasped Simon’s sword in his free hand as he ran, not trusting it to not slide out of his belt without a crossguard. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was made of, but judging by the craftsmanship and the rich, golden sea-silk cord wound criss-crossing its hilt, it was not only as valuable as he’d judged, but probably straight from the Ocean Kingdom’s royal collection- in other words, priceless to the right buyer.

O’Malley didn’t really consider stealing Simon’s sword as payback for ruining the set-up at Junkyard Town, though. That was what the new number in his phone was for. He just needed a moment of peace to dial it and let the Queen of the Monster Kingdom know Simon’s true face. It was only fair, after Simon had done the same for him.

Ahead of him, the bushes parted violently to reveal both of his former lackeys. O’Malley simply sneered, not slowing his pace.

“Oh, good, looks like we got to him first!” Keith said from his vantage point on his bearlike compatriot’s shoulder. “I was half expecting that dorky-looking kid to get to him before us.” A moment earlier, O’Malley had thought so too. In the end, he’d only managed to evade Simon through trickery.

“Told you that shortcut was a good one,” Nick replied, cracking his knuckles. “Dibs on punching him in the boingloins, I’m gonna teach this joker not to betray the trust of the folk that voted for hi-”

“grrrrrBARKBARK **BARK _ROWF---_** ”

 

\-------

 

“...And then I jumped the log and _boom_ , couldn’t see him anywhere!” Simon grumbled, running alongside Finn and his mighty Jake-steed. “I probably ran right past wherever he was hiding and didn’t even notice.”

“If it makes you feel any better, my nose is tellin’ me we’re at least sort of going in the right direction here,” Jake replied as they stepped over a small stream.

“I can’t believe you had me thinking you’d messed up your plan, by the way!” Finn said.

“Didn’t wanna spoil the surprise... for either of you,” Simon grinned. “I thought you’d catch on when I started crying, to be honest- when I said I’ve got an iron grip on crying, I meant it both ways. Pretty useful for getting jerks to let their guards down.”

“Devious!” Finn grinned back at him. Then, as he realized something, the grin was replaced by a look of horror. “Oh glob, I forgot- he’s still got Marceline on speed-dial! What if he calls her and-”

Finn was cut off by what sounded like distant barking, followed by two equally distant screams of terror.

“Was that-?”

“I think so.” Simon was already running in the direction the noise had come from. “C’mon, we’d better check it out!”

Gunter and his two search buddies had made it to the source of the screaming first. Ten feet above them in a tree, Nick and Keith clung to a branch, their hackles raised in fright.

“Blimey, how’d you manage to get up there?” Gunter said, craning his neck.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” pouted Nick. “It’s kinda embarrassing now he ain’t here-”

“What’d he do, bark at you?” Jake said.

“IT WAS SCARY, OKAY?” Keith shouted. “He’s never done that before!”

“Wait, so all he’s gotta do is bark at anyone from town and he’ll scare the wits out of them?” Jake frowned.

“So much for gettin’ him surrounded,” Baxter sighed. “Did you see which way he went, at least?”

“Thattaway,” Nick replied, pointing. Immediately, Simon took off in that direction, Finn, Jake and Gunter following.

“Jake, how’s the scent trail smelling?” Finn asked. If O’Malley had really come this way, he figured they could just follow Jake’s nose right to him.

“Uhh…lemme check.” Jake sniffed the ground. “Nope, no clear leads down here. I think the smell’s all scrambled by the wind and that weird, strong chemical-type stank.”

“Chemical smell? What do you mean…?” Finn sniffed the air, and realized with a jolt that he could smell it too. A familiar, throat-catching, almost sweet aroma.

Finn suddenly recognized the area from last night.

_If O’Malley really wants to hide from Simon, then…_

“Hey, Simon! I’ve just had an idea!”

 

\---------

 

_[Number Not Found]_

O’Malley punched in the search term again.

_[SEARCH DIRECTORY: queen marceline abadeer]_

There. He’d definitely spelled it correctly that time.

_[Searching, Please Wait….]_

_[Number Not Found]_

Growling in frustration, O’Malley started searching the directory by hand.

As he scrolled, he realized he hadn’t been spelling it wrong. It wasn’t there anymore. With a cry of anger, he tossed his phone viciously out of his hiding place, and-

“OW-MY-FACE!”

O’Malley, cursing his temper and his bad luck, dove behind a rusting crate. He hoped whoever he’d just hit would somehow believe the phone had materialized from nowhere and had been propelled of its own accord.

“Isn’t that O’Malley’s phone?” A familiar voice said outside. “Guess you were right, Finn!”

_Simon._

Really, was his luck THAT bad? Was everything that could go wrong going to happen all at once? He’d lost his town, his initial blackmail plan, his-

Well. On second thought, his last escape plan would work much better with Simon present. Perhaps his luck wasn't so bad after all.

O’Malley’s thoughts were interrupted by a pair of long, snaking, fuzzy appendages making its way into his hidey hole, the hands on the end grasping at air, searching.

“Give me a minute and I’ll pull him out,” a voice he recognized as belonging to the dog who’d grabbed him earlier said. “He’s probably all pressed up against the wall or somethin-HEY, WHAT THE-?!”

O’Malley, acting with speed borne out of desperation, grabbed the wrists of both arms, bracing himself against the rusted crate so he didn’t get pulled out as he twisted and wound them into an elaborate knot.

Outside, Jake winced as he pulled his tangled limbs from the wrecked, tree-engulfed aircraft. “Aw, dangit, he pulled them really tight! This is gonna take forever to untangle!”

As Finn and Gunter helped Jake untangle his arms, Simon stepped forward. “O’Malley, give it up. There’s only one exit from that thing, and you can’t bark at us to scare us off like your two ex-goons.”

“The kid ain’t lying, O’Malley,” Baxter added, walking forward. “I grew up with a dog, so barkin’ won’t scare me... and I don’t think Meryl knows what fear _is_.”

“Sure I do! I fear getting hit in the face by some jerk’s phone again. That _hurt!_ ” Meryl said, rubbing her nose.

O’Malley poked his head out of the the ferns obscuring the entrance to his bolthole.

“Simon, by any chance do you know what a Hexxus Pine is?”

Simon said nothing, grimacing. O’Malley might have taken his silence as sudden fear, but he was really just mentally kicking himself for not remembering such an obvious common name.

“...I’ll take that as a yes. Well, ‘less you want something downright _incendiary_ to occur around this particular specimen,” O’Malley continued, walking out into plain view, hands in pockets, “I’d take your pals, turn around, and leave the way you came.”

Simon glared at him. “Yeah, right. You’d set yourself on fire too, you dingdong!”

“Oh, I ain’t settin’ anything on fire.”

O’Malley suddenly pulled his hand out of his pocket, hurling something beige and pearlescent at Simon.

“I’ll leave that to the _basilisk!_ ”

The hurled object- a basilisk egg- sailed past Simon and hit Baxter in the chest, breaking and covering him with greenish yolk.

“Well, I wasn’t aimin’ for _him_ , but you get the idea,” O’Malley said, walking out of his bolthole. “Now, any minute now that basilisk’s gonna smell-” O’Malley paused for a moment as a faint, horrific crowing echoed through the valley. “Ah, there it goes. I’d get runnin, folks- pretty sure none of you want that thing showerin’ this tree with sparks and causin’ an inferno-”

Something hit O’Malley right in the face, filling his eyes and nostrils with greenish, banana-smelling goo.

“Maybe you should come _with_ us,” Simon said. “By the way, your aim _sucks_. Mine’s better.”

O’Malley was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, with carefully held-back fury, he spoke again.

“That explains what happened to Marceline’s phone number. I take it you went through my pockets while I was asleep?”

“Pfft, try when I bumped into you on my way out of camp,” Simon scoffed. With a deft hand movement, a set of keys- a very familiar set of keys to O’Malley- appeared in his hands. “That was just a bonus, though- I was really looking for these. Why pick a lock when the key’s in reach, right?”

“Y’know, I _definitely_ didn’t teach you a crook skill like pickpocketing,” O’Malley snapped, pawing yolk from his eyes. “An’ you can’t dress that up any other way, Simon- that’s a sneaky thief move-”

“Oh, can you just turn off the attempted guilt trip mode for _five freakin’ minutes?!_ ” Simon yelled. “I don’t wanna fight that Basilisk next to a Hexxus Pine, and I’m pretty sure you don’t wanna get eaten, so just toss me my sword and come quietl-”

A shadow fell over the clearing. Something massive, feathered and straw-yellow landed in front of them with a tumultuous _THUD_.

“WHAT THE FLIP IS THAT THING?!” Jake yelled. He hadn’t quite gotten his arms untangled yet, despite Gunter and Meryl’s best efforts.

“DON’T LOOK IT IN THE EYE, IT’S A BASILISK!” Finn hollered back. Jake and Meryl averted their eyes- Gunter, having dealt with basilisks before, had already looked away- but Baxter stood transfixed, caught in the basilisk’s gaze. With an angry screech, the beast hopped forward, wings flaring out as it pinned the old cat to the ground with one foot. It turned its attention to O’Malley just as he tried to make a run for it, and, sparks flying, snapped its beak sharply, sending a bolt of electricity shooting for him.

O’Malley ducked just in time, and the bolt hit the nearest conductive surface - that of the broken aircraft beneath the incredibly flammable tree.

The blast that followed was enough to knock everyone present to the ground, except the basilisk, who merely shrugged it off like a warm breeze. Thankfully, the explosion had come from the depleted fuel tank of the plane instead of the tree, but the blast had still managed to ignite the roots, and smoky flames streaked up the trunk rapidly.

Seizing its chance, the basilisk grabbed O’Malley in its free set of talons before he could get to his feet. It flexed its wings in preparation for takeoff, obviously wanting to finish off the egg thieves- both real and perceived- somewhere that wasn’t increasingly on fire.

Simon reacted before anyone else. Dashing forward, he grabbed his sword from where O’Malley had dropped it, shrugged his bag off, and leaped onto the basilisk’s back. Snarl-gobbling, it shook itself vigorously, trying to dislodge the boy.

Finn was next to recover, unsheathing his own sword as he staggered to his feet. He charged forward, ready to cleave its feet out from under it. The basilisk's neck twisted mid-quake and the head snapped around like a viper’s in Finn's direction. Emitting a shrieking roar, it lashed its tail at Finn at the last second, sending him head-over-heels across the smouldering leaf litter. With a growl, it flapped its wings, sending embers and smoke everywhere as it took off into the sky, Simon still clinging to it.

Finn managed to land more or less on his feet as the basilisk flew off. He coughed as he watched it ascend into the sky, Simon, O’Malley and Baxter with it. By now, the tree was fully ablaze, belching thick black smoke into the air, and several other nearby trees had started to catch alight as well.

“Finn!” Jake ran out of the smoke towards Finn, coughing just as hard. “You okay, buddy?”

“I’m fine! Where’s Gunter and-”

“He split himself up to warn the others about the fire!” Jake said as the two of them ran from the spreading inferno. “He took that rat girl with him, too!”

Finn breathed a sigh of relief- at least now the townsfolk wouldn’t get hurt. Hopefully.

He turned his eyes to the sky.

“Hey Jake, you remember that one time those giant vultures attacked the hotdog kingdom, and-“

“I gotcha,” Jake said, following Finn’s gaze. He grew to the size of an ogre with massive, muscular arms, picking Finn up with one chair-sized hand. “You gonna need any backup?”

“Nah, Simon’s up there, remember?” Finn said, shrugging his backpack off and handing it to Jake, who promptly stuck it into his back fat, which he then morphed into the shape of a backpack. “I think we can take that thing together. Now c’mon, Jake, go long! GO LONG-”

Jake threw Finn skywards.

 

\-------

 

_Don’t look down unless you need to._

It was a fairly sound piece of advice for someone who was fighting in mid-air, even under optimal conditions, but considering the once-peaceful forest they were soaring over was rapidly turning into a crackling, smoking hellscape filled with one of Simon’s greatest phobias, it was something he was trying to keep in mind significantly more than usual.

The basilisk roar-gobbled in frustration, twisting its neck around in an attempt to snap at its unwanted passenger.

 _Good,_ Simon thought as he swatted it in the face with the flat of his blade. _The more focused you are on me, the less likely you are to bite the heads off of O’Malley or that poor cat guy in mid-air._ It opened its mouth wide, sparks flying as it started to charge another bolt of electricity. Quicker than the basilisk could react, he reached into the beast’s maw with his sword, and with a sharp flick of the wrist, clipped its Thor’s Thimble- the source of its electricity, located on the roof of its mouth- in two. _Good luck trying to zap me now, sucker!_

If they’d been on the ground, he could have simply thrust the sword up through the soft palate into the brain to kill the basilisk, but Simon had a feeling that was a bad idea while airborne. Especially with-

_THUD._

Something hit the basilisk in the chest, stopping it in its tracks and causing Simon to lose his grip and almost fall from his perch- a moment of scrambling later, he was left practically lying over the beast’s shoulder.

This new position, however, gave Simon a good view of what had hit them.

“DUDE!” Finn hollered, smacking the basilisk in the face with his sword and grasping a fistful of its breast feathers with the other. “DON’T HOG ALL THE BASILISK FIGHTING TO YOURSELF!”

“I’m sorry, that was _really_ rude of me!” Simon called back, gritting his teeth as he scrambled for purchase on the slick feathers, trying to get upright again. “Plenty of basilisk to go around, help yourself!”

“Don’t go killing him yet!” a voice from below shouted. It sounded like the old cat dude O’Malley had hit with the basilisk egg. “You’ll drop us all right into the fire! Try and get him over the river before you take him down!”

Finn looked ahead, picking out the river among the trees. _Geez, even if we manage to get it to fly past the river, we’re still probably gonna crash into a tree or something, unless we can find a cleari-_

The basilisk snapped viciously at him, catching his shirt in his teeth. Thinking fast, he swung his sword, severing the caught material before the basilisk had a chance to pull him free of his perch. As it reared its head back again, Simon, having found his footing on its back again, struck out with his sword, severing part of its wattle.

Shrieking in pain, the basilisk flipped into a roll. Finn threw himself flat against its chest, gripping at its feathers for dear life as the world briefly spun around in a blur of trees, fire, sky and smoke.

When they came out of the roll, Finn looked up to see the monster thrashing its head around frantically in an attempt to reach Simon, who was clinging to its neck like a bear cub to a tree trunk. Finn scrambled up the basilisk’s torso, using fistfuls of plumage as handholds, until he reached the basilisk’s shoulders. Yelling, he struck it in the muzzle where its beak met its snout, catching it off-guard and making it pause in its thrashing long enough for Simon to detach from its neck and slide down to a handhold on the opposite shoulder from Finn.

“Dude, we need a plan,” Finn said, blocking another snapping bite from the basilisk as he spoke. “How are we supposed to land this thing with all these trees in the way?”

Simon dodged the basilisk strike directed at him. “I’ve been looking for spots over the river, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea- HEY, OLD CAT DUDE!” he hollered down to Baxter, still trapped in the basilisk’s talons.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“I think the only place we can land this thing is in or around Junkyard Town! Know any open spaces there that aren’t gonna have a bunch of people around to get hurt?” Simon wasn’t actually sure if he could accurately steer it into a certain part of town, but it helped to have a goal.

Before Baxter could reply, a second voice butted in.

“Who cares where you land it?! Ain’t nobody gonna stick around once they see this thing fallin’ from the sky anyway!”

 _Oh yeah,_ he’s _down there too._

“Aw, shut it, you,” Baxter retorted. Then, in reply to Simon, ”Try near the bus tower- our “mayor” never developed that area for livin’ in, so-”

“Couldn’t resist a jab at me there, huh?”

“If I wasn’t trapped in a giant monster chicken foot I’d do more than make a jab at y-”

Then, with a twist of its body, the basilisk flicked its claws and sent both of them flying over its shoulders in an attempt to hit its the unwanted riders.

Simon ducked as O'Malley hurtled toward him, flinging a hand out and grabbing his wrist as he flew overhead. O'Malley grasped Simon’s own wrist in turn. The momentum almost jerked Simon off the basilisk himself, but he hung on with his legs until O'Malley got a grip on the basilisk's back feathers.

“Why the heck did you catch me?” O’Malley shouted as Simon turned back, just in time to dodge another basilisk strike. ”Damn moronic of you, son- you nearly got _yourself_ thrown off doin’ that!”

 _Because that’s what heroes DO,_ Simon didn’t say. He didn’t have time to argue this point, and he didn’t think it would make O’Malley change his mind even if he had.

On the basilisk’s other shoulder, Finn was starting to regret his tactic of ‘just brace yourself and grab the dude as he hits you.’ He had stayed on the basilisk, sure, and he’d definitely stopped Baxter from plummeting to his death, but he hadn’t counted on the instincts of a terrified cat that had quite recently lost its footing.

“Dude, your claws are digging into me!” Finn yelled, trying to pry Baxter from his position clung to his torso. “Can’t you cling onto the basilisk instead?”

“CAN’T MOVE. FREAKIN’ OUT TOO HARD. SORRY!” Baxter screamed flatly, every inch of fur puffed up.

Finn sighed, giving up. Remembering something, he turned to Simon. “Dude, wait. How are we supposed to make sure this thing crashes in Junkyard Town? It’s not even flying in the right direction!“ Sure enough, they could see some of the taller car piles in Junkyard town peeking through the trees to their left.

“I’ve got it covered,” Simon said, a grin forming on his features.”Hold on tight and cover me- this is _definitely_ gonna make momma mad!”

Then, with a precise, savage motion, he brought the hilt of his sword down on a certain point on the basilisk’s left shoulder, then, as quickly as he could, he did the same to the right. Immediately, the monstrous wings shot out, rigid and twitching spasmodically as the baslisk was forced into a glide by its violently tweaked nerves. As it howled in distress, thrashing its head, Simon put his foot out onto the left wing and pushed, putting as much of his weight into it as he dared.

It didn’t take much. After a moment, the basilisk started to tip, banking into a turn to the left, finally heading directly for Junkyard Town. Just as they started to lose altitude, it started to recover, flapping its wings weakly at first before fully regaining control over its limbs.

As if to welcome their approach, several blue flares shot up from the Junkyard town area- a signal both Finn and Simon recognized as a call for the aid of water elementals. More than certainly a response to the fire.

“That was totally algebraic!!” Finn yelled, obviously rather impressed. “How did you DO that?”

“Just a bit of applied nerdery!” Simon yelled back, grinning from ear to ear. He didn’t look behind them, but he didn’t have to look back to know O’Malley was probably giving him a weird look. _He’s probably forming another ‘You Used A Thing I Mentioned Once And That Means You’re A Natural Born Criminal’ speech in his head already,_ Simon thought.

Before he’d caught on, O’Malley told him several tales of how he’d disarmed people with a blow to the right part of the arm- almost certainly the same move he’d used to disarm Simon earlier. It wasn’t until years later that Simon had finally satiated his curiosity and, over the course of several library visits, identified exactly what technique O’Malley had described. Then it had simply taken some research into anatomy and a couple of field tests to refine it and adapt it for use against basilisks- applied nerdery at its finest. Normally, he simply used it to ground them long enough to take them down, but there was something to be said for being able to steer a little when they _did_ manage to take to the air.

Simon coughed, fighting the urge to gag at the smell as they flew through a column of smoke caused by the swathe of fiery death that had raged its way from where they had left the ground. The fire had spread unnaturally fast, probably due to sparks carrying on the wind and hitting other Hexxus Pines. He could only hope that the people of the valley had precautions in case of forest fires.

However, the fire was the least immediate threat to their safety. The temporary paralysis of its wings had sent the basilisk into a frothing, roaring, gobbling mixture of panic and fury.

Up until now, the monster had viewed the two small creatures on its back as an unshakeable annoyance that would probably taste great when finally pried loose. It was only when one of them had- to its own perception of the situation- almost brought it to a crashing death that it decided on more immediate action- delicious or not, they had to die _now_. Maybe once they were gone it could finish punishing the two egg thieves for their transgressions.

The basilisk sped up, no longer noticing or caring what direction it was headed. It was about to grab and toss the creature that could match its gaze- the one with the dark crest, the one who’d hurt its wings in the first place and was currently coughing from the smoke- when something hit it hard in the cheek. Whipping its head around, it clucked angrily at its assailant- the white-crested one, the one that had escaped its grasp before and had crashed into its chest in mid-flight. One of the egg thieves was clinging to its chest.

The infernal creature was shouting something at it now.

“HEY, BASILISK! I HEARD THAT IF SOMEONE JIGGLES YOU BACK AND FORTH, YOUR HEAD STAYS IN THE SAME SPOT!”

Finn focused on the basilisk’s crest as it reared its head back for another strike. It was kind of tricky reminding himself not to look it in the eye- he was kicking himself for not taking the mirror out of its bag before handing it to Jake- but he didn’t want to find out what it felt like to be transfixed by its gaze.

Blade met beak as Finn parried the blow, carving a deep gash into the the basilisk’s cheek. Holding his sword hilt in his teeth in order to have two hands free, Finn clambered down the beast’s chest, intending to move out of range of its increasingly furious attempts to bite his face off.

“You sure we wanna be down here?” Baxter said, glancing down. “Wouldn’t it be better to be on top of the bird?”

“I ohhn’aaahnaa gehh- sorry,” Finn clarified as he took his sword out of his mouth. “I don’t wanna get too close to O’Malley, dude. The urge to punch him after all the stuff he did is way too strong, you know?”

 _Besides, this is working out great,_ Finn thought, watching as the basilisk’s jaws clashed shut inches from his face. In this position, they were just out of its reach, perfect for frustrating it just enough that it would keep its focus on Finn in case Simon had to force it to turn again. _That’s it, keep trying to get to me and not to the nerd on your back! Not that you’ll get to me, but_ -

A huge, scaly claw closed around Finn’s foot. He had forgotten that, having tossed its payload of egg-drenched old dudes, it had its feet free to grasp at anything within reach.

Feeling it start to tug, Finn seized as much of the basilisk’s belly feathers as he could manage in his left hand, gripped on as best he could with his free foot, and one-handedly hacked away at the grasping claw as hard as he could. Massive gashes appeared where the demonsblood blade hit home, and a huge, clawed digit tumbled loose after the third or fourth blow.

Despite his best efforts, the basilisk did not let go. Finn felt his fingers start to slip.

Simon did not fail to witness the struggle below. He’d not been doing much other than waiting for the basilisk’s wing nerves to recover enough for another salvo of paralyzing blows, just in case he needed to alter its course again. Thanking Glob they were close enough to Junkyard City to attempt a landing- or at least he thought so, the smoke was getting hard to see through- he turned to O'Malley, who was still clinging to the basilisk’s back feathers, and spoke before the old dog could say anything.

"Look, I know you probably wanna say something about me using that nerve strike thing a few minutes ago and how it’s proof that i should just let you mold me into a criminal genius or something, but I really don’t have time for it right now.” Simon held his hand out. “I need you to shut up and climb up to the shoulders and out of my way so I can go stab a bird."

"Fair enough," O'Malley said, and carefully shifted his grip so he could grab Simon’s hand and be hauled up onto the shoulder area. "You just said it yourself, anyway," he added, a ghost of a smirk crossing his features.

Simon half-climbed, half slid down the monster’s back feathers, stopping approximately at the hips. By the time he'd finished his basilisk anatomy research, he'd learned a lot about its weak points, including useful tidbits such as how to remove the eyes without damaging them, or the location of its Thor’s Thimble, heart, and other vital organs.

Simon’s focus was currently on its spine, however. Grasping his sword handle in both hands, he took careful aim… then thrust downwards.

 

\---------

 

Junkyard town was in less of a state of panic than one would expect of a town near the jaws of a forest fire.

The valley they lived in was rife with Hexxus Pines. Knowing both this and the unusual properties of the petroleum-loving tree, they’d simply decided to beef up their protection against fire. All around the perimeter, the most agile townsfolk climbed up to previously inert, magic-infused blue gems nestled inbetween ancient bales of scaffolding pipes and seated in car seats. Once activated, they would protect Junkyard Town from fire and excessive heat for several days at a time.

Other than that, most of the focus was on getting ahold of the local water elementals.

“Are you sure water elementals are going to be enough for this?” Gunter said as he looked out over the smouldering forest from his perch on Jake’s head. It seemed to have stopped at the river for now, but judging by the black, shimmering leaves on some of the trees ahead, there was a good chance it could still spread.

“I dunno,” said Nick as he finished firing off the blue flares. Without O’Malley and Baxter, leadership of the townsfolk seemed to have fallen to both of O’Malley’s ex-guards, who were at least competent in following a fire drill. The bearlike cat offered Gunter and Jake a hip flask from his belt. ”Hopefully one of them’ll be powerful enough to summon a decent rainstorm, otherwise I can’t see them doing much to save any part of the forest past the river.“

Gunter sighed, taking a swig from the offered hipflask, which turned out to be full of apple juice, and passing it to Jake. Getting everyone out of the forest before they all burned had been an adventure in itself, and he was glad there was a moment for them to catch their breath from it all. He was especially thankful for Jake’s ability to shapeshift, which had been just as invaluable in rounding everyone up as Gunter’s self-replication. It was so much easier to herd cats when you could round them up into somebody who could shapeshift their body into a minivan, even if that someone was a dog.

“Hey, at least nobody had been seriously hurt so far,” Jake said, passing the hip flask full of apple juice back to Nick. This was true- there had been plenty of cuts and scrapes and scorched fur, but nothing past that.

 _Well, nobody hurt so FAR_ , Gunter reminded himself. He could still hear the cries of the basilisk echo somewhere in the smoke, and it was all he could do to hope that none of the four people clinging to the thing hadn’t gotten hurt.

Well, he didn’t really care if _O’Malley_ got hurt or not, but he was still hoping to get a chance to try out his new trick, and it wouldn’t have felt right to attempt it on someone who was seriously hurt, even if they were a conniving, manipulative jerkbutt.

A piercing, bestial shriek of agony split the air, much, _much_ closer than it was before. Gunter and Jake looked up in unison just in time to see the the basilisk explode from the curtain of smoke, its back end dangling uselessly behind it, soar shakily over their heads- both Gunter and Jake spotted their human siblings clinging to the beast as it did so - and vanish, floundering in distress, amongst the towers of wrecked vehicles.

Moments later, a thunderous crash echoed through the entire town, emanating from the area with the bikes.

Before the echoes had even subsided, Jake and Gunter had already taken off in the direction of the noise.

 

\------

 

Finn knew that most popular adventuring guides called a backstab an automatic critical hit. If the sword or dagger didn't sever the spinal cord, it could puncture other vital organs or open major arteries, leaving a victim to bleed out in seconds.

Simon's sword, however, had _not_ missed the spinal cord.

As the basilisk let out an utterly ear-splitting scream, Finn felt the grip on his foot spasm, then release entirely. He looked up to see Simon, his sword glistening more redly than it had been a minute ago, blocking and dodging a frenzied salvo of attempted bites from the basilisk as he climbed back up to its shoulder.

“Dude, what happened?!” Finn said, nearly losing his grip as the basilisk screeched again, weaker this time, and lurched violently in the sky. “What’s wrong with it?”

“I cut its spinal cord, that’s what’s wrong!” Simon replied as they narrowly missed crashing into a tower of cars. “Not exactly the best way to get it out of the air, but I had to stop it from grabbing you somehow, right?”

“Wait,” Finn said as he looked over the basilisk’s wing. They were closer to the ground than before, close enough for Finn to see Jake and Gunter as they passed over them. “How is it still in the air if you took out its back end? Doesn’t it need its tail to steer or someth-”

_THUD._

The basilisk, barely able to stay in the air, let alone watch where it was going, collided with a towering pile of bikes. Before either Finn or Jake had a chance to stop him, O’Malley leaped from the monster’s shoulder, landed on the nearest bikes, and turned to doff his hat in a farewell gesture. The basilisk started to slide rapidly down the steeply-sloped pile, unable to stop its descent without working feet.

Simon was about to call O’Malley a booger-blasting flea-ridden cupcake-spitter, when he realized both Finn and Baxter- who was still firmly clinging to Finn’s midsection- were nudging him both urgently and violently. Turning around, he realized why - the basilisk, and both of them by extension, were now hurtling down the bike pile towards a very familiar walkway, complete with a very familiar hole. Neither of them had time to jump clear before they and the basilisk hit the rusting sheet metal with a thunderous crash, breaking through the sheet metal like cardboard and plummeting down to the darkness below.

Miraculously, the basilisk took most of the falling impact, although the two of them were sent flying in opposite directions as the monster’s body almost bounced on impact on the bottom of the chasm.  Water splashed everywhere as Finn landed on his feet in the stream, sword at the ready to cleave the basilisk in two if it rose again. After a moment, realizing that yes, they were on solid ground at last, Baxter carefully unstuck his claws from Finn’s sides, slid slowly to the ground and then- raw panicked instinct kicking back in- shot off in the direction of the path to the exit, making a noise that sounded very much like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH.

The basilisk had not yet moved. Finn, not seeing any sign of Simon and kind of worried that he’d fallen under the massive thing, approached it carefully. It lay belly down in the dead grass, its legs and tail sprawled out behind it in an unnatural, twisted position.

“Hey, Simon?” Finn called out tentatively. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yeah!” a voice called out from somewhere beyond the monster’s bulk. “Just… just outta breath. How about you?”

Finn was about to answer, when suddenly the basilisk’s head rose, all four eyes staring straight into his own. Suddenly, the only thing in the world that mattered was to stare deeply into those glowing blue eyes, despite a tiny voice in his head that was jumping up and down and screaming _MOVE, YOU DINGDONG, IT WANTS TO KILL YOU._ Dimly, he noted that the eyes were slowly getting closer, the basilisk dragging itself along the ground towards him with its tattered wings, inching slowly, slowly closer. As his demonsblood sword clattered to the ground from numbed hands, the tiny voice in his head shrieked at him to move, to look away, to do _something,_ but he couldn’t- the eyes were burning their way into his mind and locking him in place, even as the beast reared its head back in preparation for a skull-crushing bite.

Before it could strike, however, Simon leaped out of the shadows like a thunderbolt, sword at the ready. The basilisk only had enough time to turn to face the new threat before he swung the black blade in a furious arc, cleaving its head from its body in one strike.

Finn staggered backwards, the tiny voice resuming direct control of his senses as the spell broke. For a moment, the two boys said nothing, their heavy breathing and the trickling of the stream being the only noises permeating the area.

Finn was the first to speak. “Thanks, Simon.”

“No big, bro,” Simon replied, putting a foot on the severed basilisk head. “Pretty standard hero biz, right?”

“Hehe, yeah,” Finn grinned, slinging his sword over his shoulder. “Now let’s go find and punch O’Malley!”

 

\------

 

Whatever water elemental the townsfolk had alerted, it must have been a powerful one. The clouds gathering above the valley, occasionally flickering with lightning, were practically purple and swollen with rain, although the smoke from the fires might have added to their darkened hue somewhat. The sky looked ready to burst with torrential rain any second.

_Good. It’ll wash away the scent trail - far as anyone will be able to tell, I just up and vanished._

O’Malley thanked whatever trickster deity had made the basilisk crash in a lonely, deserted part of town as he ran down a backstreet, towards the side of town not in danger of being besieged by fire. A lot of his boltholes in town were likely useless, especially since the entire town had apparently read his notebook from back to back, but he’d only marked down the ones he needed to keep track of, the ones with stashed-away scratching posts and gnaw-blocks. Over the time he’d been mayor, he’d gotten to know every nook and cranny of this junkyard, and it wouldn’t take long to find a bolthole nobody would check while he licked his wounds and waited for an opportune moment to leave town.

He hadn’t checked to see if Simon had survived the fall into the crevice, but he hoped he had. He wouldn’t want the kid to miss out on his dear friend ‘Marcy’’s reaction to his criminal past, after all-

“ _Hey, noodle legs!_ ”

Jake stepped out in front of him some way ahead, pounding his fist into his palm.

O’Malley screeched to a halt, his lip curled in disgust. “For someone whose arms I tied in literal knots earlier, you sure ain’t in any position to call anyone noodle _anything._ ”

“I don’t care, dude,” Jake said, oddly cheerful. “Hey, why don’t you look behind you?”

O’Malley was about to respond that he didn’t fall for moronic tricks like that, thank you very much, when a shadow fell over him. A shadow not caused by the clouds above them.

He turned around, and felt his heart sink into his stomach.

A gargantuan, shapeless, greenish mass towered over him like a giant, undulating lump of clay, inching slowly forward.

As O’Malley took a step back, the surface of the entity rippled, the top of it rapidly coalescing into a solid, defined shape.

That of a titanic, collossal _fist_.

As if on cue, an especially loud thunderclap sounded overhead, and it began to rain.

O’Malley staggered backwards, the intentions of the green blob more than apparent now. He started sizing up his escape options - trying to climb over one of the junk piles would take too long, but perhaps if he charged past the stretchy dog guy, he could take him unawares and slip past-

O’Malley tripped over something long, fuzzy and yellow, landing him on his tail in the rapidly-forming mud. Above him, the fist loomed like a gallows.

“Oh, no, dude,” Jake said, de-stretching his arm. “No running, and no icy versions of Finn coming to drag you off- you’re gonna take your medicine this time! The medicine is punches, by the way,” he added.

As O’Malley tried in vain to get to his feet, he suddenly realized a feature of the fist-creature that he hadn’t before.

_Eyes. Hundreds of thousands of tiny eyes._

The mass parted just below the “wrist” of the fist, exposing something at its center. And with an even larger jolt, O’Malley realized the true nature of the monstrous fist.

“Soooo… How was your evening last night?” Gunter said, cheerfully, a few tiny straggler clones running across his face to their required positions. “We never did get to finish off the evening’s discussion, now I think about it!” The fist of clones reared back, preparing to drop down on O’Malley with the fury of two and a half million tiny magical penguins.

“So… you wanna discuss things? L-let’s talk, right?” O’Malley stammered, his usual eloquence failing him in the face of an unavoidable beating. “Ain’t no need to go crushin’ me when we can just t-talk it through - I promise I won’t go tellin’ Queen Marceline about Simon helpin’ me steal her instruments-”

“You WHAT?!” Gunter exploded. O’Malley’s face was gaunt with horror-  this part was evidently news to Gunter. “Oh, you just keep digging yourself in this deeper and deeper, don’t you? Well,” Gunter submerged himself in the fist again, “enough chit-chat. Back to business!”

The fist dropped.

 

\----------

 

“ _MOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHER-_ ”

Simon, frustrated by both O’Malley’s escape and the sudden rain washing away any possible trail they could follow, kicked the side of a totalled motorcycle repeatedly. “ALL THAT HASSLE JUST FOR HIM TO GET AWAY?! THIS IS RIDICULOUS! WE-”

“Simon,” Finn interrupted, perching the basilisk head held on top of his own. “Calm the junk down. He can’t have left town with that fire going bizonkers outside, right? We’ve just gotta search the town from head to-”

From somewhere up ahead, there was a dull, earth-shaking THUD. A moment later, there was a muffled, familiar-voiced cry of “ _AW HECK NAW, DON’T DO IT AGAIN!_ ” followed by several more, very similar THUD noises. Finn and Simon briefly exchanged a look before dashing off to find the source.

O’Malley was lying, reasonably pummeled from head to toe, in a shallow, fist-shaped crater by the time Finn and Simon arrived on the scene. Jake, supporting a dazed Gunter, waved to them. “DUDE, YOU GUYS MISSED IT!” he hollered as the two boys approached. “GUNTER DID THIS LEGION THING AND BECAME A GIANT FIST SO WE COULD BOTH PUNCH HIM WITH OUR GIANT FISTS AND IT WAS _SO COOL_!”

“It was so worth this headache,” Gunter added weakly. Generating so many clones at once, even tiny ones, was always a heck of an energy drain. He’d probably need to sleep for a full day after this to recharge.

“Algebraic!” Finn exclaimed. “Wish we could’ve been there, but we had to finish off that basilisk. Think we can take the head home as a trophy?”

“Only if you’re okay with me taking the real eyes out first,” Simon said, grinning. “I need them for my glasses, remember?”

“Well, yeah,” Finn replied. “You can’t be a big nerd with broken glasses!”

“Hey, you found him!” Finn and Simon turned to see Meryl and Keith emerge from the downpour, splashing towards them. “We kinda thought he’d gotten away from what Baxter said!”

“Oh yeah, that guy!” Finn suddenly remembered. “Is he okay? He kind of ran off screaming when I last saw him.”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine! Might be in shock, though. We gave him a blanket, just in case,” Meryl replied, aiming a kick at O’Malley’s foot.

“Quit it,” O’Malley groaned.

Meryl stuck out her tongue in response. “Hm…naaaah.” She aimed another kick at him.

“Spot of good luck with this rain coming down, huh?” Gunter said, squinting up at the sky. “Won’t take too long for that fire to go out in this lot!”

“Luck nothin’- our flares somehow caught the attention of the Ocean Kingdom!” Keith explained. “I think they sent the princess herself to summon this storm- but I dunno _why,_ the Oceanfolk don’t usually tend to pay much heed to anything on land...”

“I think I might have something to do with that,” Simon explained. “Man, I’ve gotta send Betty a thank-you gift for this.”

“For sure,” Finn nodded. “Any idea what she’d like?”

“Sciencey things are a pretty good bet,” Simon said, thoughtful. “Maybe I could get her a decent DNA sample off of some rare creature or something…?”

Finn had an idea. He pulled off his hat, letting his hair fall. “How about DNA from another human? I mean, I don’t think I can go visit her, but If she’s into science, she could get my DNA out of some of my hair, right?”

Simon stared wide-eyed at Finn. “ _Woah_. How were you hiding so much hair under that hat?!”

“He probably stuffed it where his brain would have gone if he had one.” O’Malley groaned from his place in the fist crater, which was rapidly filling with rainwater.

Finn and Simon turned to look at the defeated ex-mayor.

“I’m gonna mess with him,” Simon said.

“Can I go before you?” Finn asked. “I’ve been holding it back since last night, dude. I need to justice punch him.”

“Oh, of _course_!” Simon replied, giving Finn a half-bow as the other boy pulled his hat back on, both of them grinning with unrestrained glee. “Guests go first, after all.”

“Now, boys,” O’Malley said, “You ain’t about to wail on a helpless old man like me, right?”

"Helpless old men don't try and ruin someone's relationship with their family and friends," Finn intoned murderously. "Ospecially when that person is six." He smacked one fist into his open palm.

O’Malley sighed. He was aching all over and wet and his hat was missing. But moreover, he was very, very tired. As Finn leaped high into the air above him and prepared to bring his elbow down hard into his gut, he closed his eyes.

_This is gonna be one long day._


	10. Penguin Piles and Full-Ice Consequences

_THUD._

The horseshoe bounced off the peg set in the ground, landing a couple of feet away from its target.

“Aw, breadballs!” Simon groaned. “How’d I manage to miss that one?”

“My turn!” Finn exclaimed, tossing his own horseshoe. The iron crescent sailed through the air, landing on the peg with a triumphant _CLINK_ _._ “HA!” He crowed. “I’m just kicking _all_ your butt at this game!”

Finn would normally have rolled his eyes at the idea of passing up further exploration of Uuu for the sake of passing the time playing a game of Horseshoe toss in Monster Castle’s courtyard - or Centaurshoe Toss, as Simon had called it. Exploring probably wasn’t a good idea while Simon's glasses were still being fitted with with new lenses, though, so Finn was content to wait. There was no rush, at least not now they’d delivered the parts that Bonnibel had needed to fully restore power to the castle’s laboratory.

“Eh, I’m normally better than this,” Simon replied, sizing up another throw as Finn added another tally mark to his side of the chalkboard. “I’m throwin’ without my glasses here, remember?”

“Hey, I thought you said you only had trouble seeing up close without your glasses?” Finn said, squinting.

“I… lemme have my pride here, okay?” Simon replied, chuckling. “I need _some_ reason to be off my game.”

Finn was about to reply that maybe Simon wasn’t off his game and that he was just better at it than him when they were interrupted by Jake’s arrival.

“Okay, so I got us some lunch, but there’s a problem,” Jake said, holding up both arms, plus a third arm he had grown from his belly. Attached to the end of each arm was what appeared to be a disembodied maw of teeth, each clamped tight around Jake’s hands. “I bought some fries for us, but they won’t let go of my arms.”

“Don’t tell me,” Simon laughed. “You tried to sneak some fries from our portions onto your own, right?”

“Just a couple.” Jake said plaintively. “It’s not like you guys would have even noticed them missing!”

“Yeah, well, the fry containers in the Monster Kingdom _do_ notice,” Simon replied, taking hold of one of the fry containers attached to Jake’s arms with both hands. Pressing on both sides of the container, he pulled it free, the maw emitting a happy gurgle as it opened wide, revealing its tasty cargo. “Fry theft is serious biz in this city by royal decree.”

“I’m betting Marceline’s dad is to blame for that,” Finn said as he accepted the offered fry container, sitting down in the grass.

“Mm-hmm,” Simon replied as he detached the other two fry containers from Jake’s arms. “I don’t know if it happened just once or a bunch of times, but I guess it made an impression.”

"Like the impression I made in O'Malley's face?" Finn asked, bisecting a fry with his teeth.

"Well, technically, you left _bruises_ , but yeah," Simon said with a slight chortle, sitting down beside Finn.

"Speaking of that guy, why didn't you take your chance to clobber him for all the stuff he did? If he had a punching coming from _anyone_ , it was you, but all you did was talk to him for a minute!"

“Eh, you guys clobbered every inch of him already,” Simon replied, digging in his bag with one hand as he balanced his fries in the other. “Plus, there’s easier ways to mess with someone...”

 

\----

 

_The rain stopped falling on his face. It wasn’t a particularly welcome change, however - the cool water had been soothing his pummeled features._

_“Oh, wowzers. Finn didn’t leave one inch of you unpunched, did he?”_

_O’Malley cracked open one blackened eye to glare balefully at the figure holding an umbrella over him. He could barely see through the swelling, but he didn’t need to see to know that voice. “Oh, ‘s you. Thought you’d wandered off while that other kid laid into me. I’m assumin’ it’s your turn on the punch train?”_

_“Actually, I just wanted to ask you about this before they drag you off to jail,” Simon replied, kneeling down beside the waterlogged fist crater O’Malley was still lying in. In his umbrella-free arm, he was carrying a familiar book._

_“My notebook? Look, if it’s about that drawing, it was a slow day an’ I was bored, okay?” O’Malley said._

_“Actually, it’s nothing to do with the criminal stuff,” Simon said, flipping through the pages one-handedly. “I’m actually more interested in the amount of_ mayoral _stuff in here.”_

_“I had to do the actual job to keep my cover, is all.” O’Malley shrugged, immediately wishing he hadn’t as pain shot through every muscle used for shrugging._

_“Oh, yeah, but you got WAY into this for a simple scam,” Simon replied. “Look, you okayed several new parts of the junkyard for being turned into new houses, you had that system of fire-shield gems put in to protect the town from forest fires, and you had their well renovated so the townsfolk didn’t have to filter all the rainbow filmy grossness from their water before drinking it. Why’d you go to all that hassle if you were just out to leech money off of them?”_

_“I had to drink that water too, genius,” O’Malley snapped. “What’s your point?”_

_“I’m just saying,” Simon continued, “that you REALLY got into the whole ‘benevolent mayor’ thing. Like, it looks like it went way beyond a cover. Are you sure you weren’t, oh, I dunno, enjoying getting positive attention for doing a good thing for once?”_

_There was a long pause._

_“Are you tryin’ to turn my own words back on me, boy?” O'Malley said._

_“I’m just calling it like I see it, bro,” Simon replied, standing up again. “Although if you want, you could call this a long-overdue wake-up call. Your choice.”_

_Without waiting for O’Malley’s response, he walked away._

 

\--------

 

“I’m pretty sure he just dismissed everything I said,” Simon concluded, sprinkling salt from the pouch his bag on his fries, “but I wanted to at least _try_ to get through to him, y’know?”

“He’ll have plenty of time to think about it in jail,” Jake replied through a full mouth.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Simon said. “Unless he, like, installed some sort of escape route or backdoor in those cells or something, in case he got caught,“ he added, yawning. ”In which case I’m gonna _kick_ myself for not noticing something like that while I was down there.”

Finn watched Simon blink hard several times, then rub his eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, just… just kinda sleepy,” Simon replied. “Haven’t slept since we left the treehouse yesterday.”

“Geez,” Finn said. Considering all they’d been through since then, it was pretty impressive that he’d managed to stay awake. “Maybe you should grab a nap while your glasses get fixed.”

“I’m fine, really!” Simon protested, digging in his bag again. “And anyway, I’ve gotta read through these.” He pulled several aged-looking notebooks out of his bag. “The guys in Junkyard Town said I could have them. They found ‘em in O’Malley’s stuff- maybe he wrote down where he stashed Marceline’s instruments in one of them.”

Finn and Jake watched Simon squint as he flipped through the notebook for a few seconds. Jake was the first to speak up.

“You said you can’t see close up things without your glasses, right? How can you _read_ without them?”

Simon paused, a look of embarrassed realization crossing his features.

“ _Clamballs._ How the heck could I forget something like that?!” he groaned, facepalming.

Finn chuckled, taking Simon by the arm as he stood up. “Because you’re zonked out on no sleep, dude. C’mon, you’ll adventure twice as hard after you get some rest.”

“I think there was a free bed in that room we left Gunter in,” Jake said. “They can be sleepy bros together if Simon takes a nap with him!”

“Yeah, but I don’t...”

Simon weakly protested all the way into the castle and up to the door of the bedchamber in question. He didn’t _want_ to sleep- he’d gone much longer without sleep before just fine. Thanks to the rocky start they’d had, he had Bro Time with Finn to catch up on- Bro Time that could be cut short if Bonnibel’s current theory about transdimensional bloat turned out to be valid(something she’d only just told him about on returning to the Monster Kingdom). Of course, the chance of that happening was pretty low, but if he could just tough out the waiting period to be absolutely sure...

As Finn opened the door to the bedchamber, they were greeted with a rare sight. A sight that convinced Simon that Gunter was subconsciously in cahoots with Finn and Jake.

“Woah. I didn’t know Gunter could clone himself in his sleep!” Jake said, eyeing the pile of penguin clones, just as asleep as Gunter himself. “I think the clones sort of swallowed up the other bed, though… not sure where Simon’s gonna sleep now.”

“Sweet mother of _Glob_ ,” Simon breathed, his eyes locked on the mound of plush, soft-feathered, sleeping clone bodies. “I think I _have_ to take a nap now. Gunter hardly ever forms a penguin pile in his sleep, and it’s the coziest nap spot in the known universe! I CANNOT RESIST THE PENGUIN PILE,” Simon declared as he flopped down onto the pile.

“Wait, really?” Finn said, flopping down beside Simon. Immediately, a look of pure joy crossed his features. “Wooooaaaah, it’s so comfy! It’s like I’m lying on a sofa made of baby chicks! Except I’m pretty sure lying on baby chicks might hurt them.”

“Even if they didn’t, they’d probably mind a lot more than Gunter does…but that’s still a pretty close comparison,” Simon said as Jake joined them. “Man, this almost feels like an extra reward for getting through that whole mess in Junkyard Town, huh?”

“You probably saved up all your good luck for now,” Jake said, squirming a little to get himself extra comfortable. “And you unleashed it at the best time of all- _bro time_. Now we all get to share the good times!”

Simon didn’t respond. He stared ahead, his eyes glazed and half-open. Finn was about to ask him if he was okay when a soft noise emanated from his mouth.

_He was snoring._

“Is he… aw, gross, don’t tell me he falls asleep with his eyes open too!” Jake groaned. “It was creepy enough on Ice King!”

“Ice King does that too?” Finn said. Simon had mentioned falling asleep with his eyes open before in one of the letters- he’d claimed it happened sometimes when he was struggling to stay awake - but he couldn’t recall Ice King ever doing it.

He reached over, gently closing Simon’s eyes with two fingers. It was pretty creepy.

“You don’t rememb- Oh, yeah, you were in that astral trance thing, huh?” Jake replied. “It happened when he used that freezing potion on us that on time.”

“Oh yeah,” Finn said. He was about to ask Jake if he remembered the fantastic and altogether interesting way they’d gotten themselves out of that situation when he was cut off by the door being flung open violently.

“My instruments detected a Gunter-clone pile! Am I too late to-- aw, _ding dong dangit!_ ” Bonnibel stood in the doorway, breathing hard, with some sort of mini-computer clutched in one hand. “You guys got there first!”

“I think there’s some room by the lamp if you wanna get in on this,” Jake said, stretching an arm to point.

“It’s not the same if I can’t stretch out!” Bonnibel huffed. ”At least I got all the repairs to the dimensport-box fixed in time for you guys coming back with the fuses. That was a total nightmare-scape of a situation,” she added, sighing.

“Yeah, about that… me and Jake are gonna be staying for a couple days longer so we can hang out with Simon and Gunter. Are you cool with that?”

“Hm? Oh, sure!” Bonnibel replied, her focus more on the screen of the apparatus in her hands. “It’ll give me a bit more time to-”

Suddenly- and without moving in the slightest- the room seemed to _lurch_ _._ The movement was accompanied by a feeling of _utter_ _wrongness_ which encompassed the senses of everyone conscious. Without taking her eyes off the small screen, Bonnibel’s expression changed from cheerfully focused to that of someone who had just realized that a Horrible Thing was occurring.

“Uh oh.” Bonnibel dropped the mini-computer, grabbing Finn and Jake by the arms. “Change of plan, guys- you have to go back home. _NOW_.”

“What?!” Finn exclaimed. He looked back at the still-sleeping Simon as Bonnibel dragged them out of the room and down the hallway. “But what about-”

“Nope no time c’mon let’s go _hurry your butts!_ ” There was another motionless jerk to reality, stronger this time. “If we can reset the balance of mass before it’s too late, the space-time gag reflex should dissipate!”

“Wait, space time what now?” Jake said. “You’re talking like the universe is gonna barf or something!”

“ _Exactly,_ ” Bonnibel replied, pushing open the lab door. “Too much trans-universal mass accumulating in one place at once without expulsion of similarly-sized mass causes universal bloat- it’s like when you drink too much soda.”

“So... us being here is gonna make the universe burp?” Finn said. It didn’t sound too awful.

“It’s gonna burp you out through a _black hole_ if you don’t hurry!” Bonnibel retorted. “Along with the rest of Uuu!”

Finn paused. He didn’t have a fourth-dimensional sword to deal with any possible black hole this time, and he doubted Simon did either.

As if for emphasis, the room spasmed without moving again.

“I... am gonna feel like such a jerk for not saying goodbye,” Finn said.

“Pretty sure he’ll understand,” Bonnibel said, opening the door to the Dimensport-box. “Don’t worry, I’ll fill him in...”

 

\-----

 

When Simon woke, it was dark outside.

Cursing his sleepy body and brain, he half-sat up. “Finn, get your foot outta my side,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, Simon,” A voice- one that definitely did not belong to Finn- replied sleepily, as the foot in his side was removed.

Simon looked over to see a blurry pink-and-white figure sitting up in the pile of still-slumbering penguin clones beside him. “Oh, hey Bonnie.” He should have known Bonnibel wouldn’t have been able to resist a penguin pile-based nap. “Where’d Finn and Jake get to?”

“Oh, I sent them home hours ago!” Bonnibel replied. “By the way, I stopped Jumping Spider from shoving these up your nose while you slept,” she added, handing Simon something small that he identified by touch as his glasses. “I guess the repair guys sent him to deliver them.”

“Okay, but… did you _seriously_ trick Finn and Jake into going back to their own universe so you could get more space on the penguin pile?!” Simon said, putting his glasses on. “Now I’ll have to send a note telling them it was a false alarm so they’ll come back and-”

“I didn’t trick them!” Bonnibel protested, digging a handheld computing device from her labcoat pocket. “The whole universal bloat thing I told you about went down! Here, peep the data if you don’t believe me!”

Simon’s heart sank as he took the offered console from Bonnibel. The data displayed on-screen confirmed it- there indeed _had_ almost been a universal bloat event, and not too long after he’d last checked his watch.

“Is… is there any chance I could send a note to Ooo to-”

“Not yet- can’t risk sending anything solid back or forth for a while now. Otherwise we might end up causing the whole thing to happen agai-” Bonnibel was interrupted by an echoing _crackle-BANG_ from somewhere above them. With a cry of ”NOOOO, NOT MY BEES!”, she leapt to her feet and sprinted out the door, leaving Simon with the mini-computer in the pile of penguin clones.

The noise had awoken somebody else. With a myriad of yawns, the Gunter clones all started shifting and blinking themselves awake as their master copy emerged from the center of the pile, rubbing his eyes.

“Blimey, I cloned in my sleep again?” Gunter said, looking around. “That hasn’t happened in a while. Definitely didn’t expect to do it with how tired I was...” Gunter then noticed that Simon wasn’t listening. The human boy sat in the pile of clones, his chin resting despondently on his knees. “Simon?”

“Finn and Jake had to go back home,” Simon replied, quiet.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Gunter said. “Well, cheer up- I’m sure they’ll come back for a visit when they get whatever they’ve got going on cleared up!”

Simon shook his head, closing his eyes. “They can’t come back. Them being here nearly caused a black hole.“

“What? But… they were here for almost two days! Surely if a black hole was gonna form, it’d have formed before now!”

Simon didn’t respond. He didn’t feel like going through the specifics- while he might have a basic understanding of things like 48-hour danger periods, cross-universal matter transferral and the full theory of transdimensional bloat, he simply wasn’t in the mood to try and explain it to Gunter right now.

Right now, a single thought occupied his mind.

_I didn’t even get to say goodbye._

 

\----------

_Two Weeks Later_

\----------

 

Simon slouched in the oversized beanbag next to his reading space, flipping idly through his current reading material. It was taking him far longer than he had expected to get through O’Malley’s notebooks. They hadn’t seemed very big, sure, but the further he delved the more he found himself cross-referencing books on abbreviation and criminal terms to make sense of things. It was hard making progress in deciphering the more hastily-jotted pages when you were unsure if the author’s references to “bread” meant money stolen from a bakery or actual bread.

Of course, it didn’t help that the notebooks were a reminder of those two wild days with Finn. It seemed like every other passage he read reminded him of the other boy, whether it was a reference to a place Finn had mentioned as the site of one of his adventures in one of his original letters, or some comment of O’Malley’s that Simon could just picture Finn’s response to.

It also didn’t help that the content of the notebooks often felt like being stuck in a room with O’Malley. No matter how hard Simon tried, he couldn’t separate the words on the page from the old dog’s voice, and depending on the section it made reading the notebooks anywhere from slightly unsettling to downright emotionally exhausting. Especially when Simon came across a reference to himself, which had happened a couple of times already.)

“So did you get to the bit where Dumbledore dies yet?” said a voice from above him.

Simon snapped the notebook shut, irritated that he hadn’t noticed the other presence in the room until it had spoken. Sure enough, when he looked up he saw Finn-Ice perched on top of the bookcase.

“Finn-Ice, did you break the front door down just to try and spoil a book I’ve read like ten times already since I was eight?” Simon said, frowning. “We just got the door fixed last week!”

“Naw, I didn’t break the door down!” Finn-Ice grinned. “I broke a _window_ _._ ”

“That’s just as bad!” Simon gritted through clenched teeth. Finn-Ice’s presence was _not_ what Simon needed right now. He sounded similar enough to Finn to make Simon almost guilty for getting angry at the Ice Prince for breaking his window. “Doors, windows, it doesn’t matter- Vandalism is _wrong_.”

“Well, geez, who peed in _your_ snow?” Finn-Ice retorted, huffing. “I oughta just take this letter back to Bonnibel and say you weren’t in!”

“Wait, letter?”

“And then, when you’re walking all the way to her lab, I’m gonna make it snow all the way there,” Finn-Ice continued. ” And I’ll block the roads so you have to walk uphill _both ways_ , and-”

Simon sighed. “Or you could just tell me what’s up with this letter biz.”

“Oh, that?” Finn Ice replied, having seemingly forgotten what had inspired his plan to annoy Simon with snow in the first place. He dug about in his tunic front with his non-ice arm, producing a thick envelope he’d apparently been keeping in there. “Yeah, Bonnibel gave me this letter and told me to deliver it to you- At least, I _think_ it’s for you. They spelled your name all sorts of wrong, but I don’t know any other big nerds!” Finn-Ice giggled, handing the envelope to a suddenly very wide-eyed Simon.

Sure enough, the writing on the envelope confirmed Simon’s most fervent hopes:

_To Professor Coldstone (The Big Nerd!!)_

Simon looked up at Finn-Ice.

“I’ll let you completely empty the cookie jar in the kitchen if you don’t bug me while I’m reading this,” he said.

A look of utter, unadulterated glee crossed Finn-Ice’s face. He mimed zipping his mouth shut, then, with a contradictory cry of “COME TO MY MOUTH, COOKIES,” he stampeded off in the direction of the kitchen.

As carefully as he could with trembling hands, Simon tore open the heavy envelope and let the contents slide into his lap- a letter, something small giftwrapped with altogether too much tape, a handful of photographs, and a second envelope, sealed with a glittery, rainbow-winged cat sticker that looked suspiciously like it might also be glow in the dark.

Simon started with the letter.

_Hey, Simon!_

_I’m sorry me and Jake had to bail on you like that - your PB said that if we didn’t leave for home right away, the universe was gonna puke all of Uuu out through a black hole or something like that. I woulda woken you up to say goodbye, but you really needed to sleep, dude! Sleep’s good for your bod and your brain!_

_Speaking of PB, our PB was kinda mad that we blew out all the power in the lab without fixing everything, but we’re cool now, I think. She says it’ll be safe to send letters and small packages again soon, so I’m gonna write this now so I can send one right away! Oh, and she says we can only visit each other when there’s something or someone being sent over on the other end to balance us out, but I dunno if she’s gonna do anything like that soon, so I guess we’re back to writing to each other until then! (Keep ahold of that basilisk head, though! Maybe when you get a chance to visit, you can bag a sweet trophy too, and then we can swap them over!)_

_Not much else is going on over here- Lumpy Space Princess says she met the most beautiful girl in the world, whatever that means. BMO says he’d like a copy of that detective game Football has, but the weird thing is, neither of us mentioned the game to him! Weird, huh?_

_Speaking of sending stuff over, what was in that sandwich you made me for our trip to Junkyard Town? That was mad tasty, yo._

“Tell BMO I will trade him for a copy of Compy’s Castle,” a voice next to Simon’s ear said.

Simon looked over to the robot perched lightly on his shoulder, folding the letter shut so she couldn’t read any further. “Football, don’t read over people’s shoulders,” he said with feigned annoyance. Really, he was having trouble feeling much negativity through the barrage of good feelings the letter had given him. “Although ten out of ten on the stealth- I didn’t see you there till you spoke.”

“That’s because I am a deadly killing machine,” Football declared cheerfully, hopping from Simon’s shoulder and trotting off.

Simon watched her leave, idly wondering what “Compy’s Castle” was before returning to the letter. The rest of the letter was written with a different pen.

_Okay, so I couldn’t think of what to write next for two whole days and I was about to just tell you about your present and sign out, but then I remembered that you hadn’t seen anyone from Ooo, right? So I grabbed my camera and went around taking some photos!_

Assuming this was a cue to look at them, Simon picked up the photographs and shuffled through. The people within looked so familiar, and yet so _weird_ \- a crownless Marceline, jamming out in what looked like the cave Bonnibel lived in. Bonnibel in a crown and regal gown, surrounded by a group of candy people (was it just Simon’s imagination, or did that cinnamon bun man have a similar expression to Jumping Spider?). Jake surrounded by a group of fully grown half-dog, half rainicorns, with “Me and my pupsters!” written on the photo border. A female fire elemental in a dress of finest ember-silk, waving to the camera and smiling. A Lumpy Space Princess that… looked exactly like the Lumpy Space Princess he knew.

Noting that someone of particular interest to him was missing from the photos, he turned his attention back to the letter.

_If you’ve looked at the photos, you probably noticed someone was missing. Well, I kinda wound up telling Ice King there was someone from an alternate universe who wanted to see what he looked like, and he wound up writing you a letter of his own!_

_The present’s actually from both of us- I only had a basic set, but he wound up digging around in his basement and giving me a bunch more of them to fill the rest of the spaces up! Hopefully we didn’t miss anything out!_

_Write back soon, ok?_

_\--Finn_

Simon rolled his eyes, still smiling as he picked at the tape holding the package together. eventually, he managed to get enough tape off to tear at the paper properly, pulling the wrappings back to reveal the contents.

Within was a small leather wallet of a very familiar style to Simon. Sure enough, opening it, he was greeted with a set of lockpicks, quite similar to his original set. What took his breath away, though, was the number of picks that he’d either never seen before, or, in the case of the smooth, three-peaked, zigzagging rake, seen a few times in books but never managed to replicate on his own.

He tucked the wallet into its new home in his waistcoat before finally turning his attention to the second envelope. Peeling off the sparkly sticker, he opened it, finding within a second letter, some more photographs, and a makeshift booklet created from notepad paper carefully stapled together.

One glance at the front page of the booklet- emblazoned with a drawing of a girl with a rabbit hat and her cat, with the title “FIONNA AND CAKE - FULL ICE CONSEQUENCES” above it- informed Simon that he simply wasn’t going to be able to resist annotating the story with spelling corrections and suggested improvements and sending it back for Ice King to edit. He put the booklet aside, redirecting his focus to the letter.

_Greetings, transdimensional dork of impeccable taste who wants to hear about me!_

_Actually, from what Finn said, you know pretty much everything you need to, and I’ve got some questions I gotta ask:  
_

_1\. Are there any hot princesses in the negaverse? I heard you snagged a real cutie. I ain’t gonna kidnap her, don’t worry, I was just wondering if there are any other single hot princesses hangin’ about._

_2\. Is Finn pulling my leg about nega-him ruling the ice kingdom? What happened to negaverse me? Is he as awesome as I am?_

_3\. How’s negaverse Marceline? We should get them together and have them do a jam-off. It’d be awesome, right?_

_4\. Is there a wrong way to eat a banana? Seriously, I’ve checked the internet but I can’t find a clear answer. You’re my last hope here, bro!_

_5\. Finn says Gunter sounds like a tooth fairy in the negaverse. What does a tooth fairy even sound like? Is he trying to say Gunter TALKS in the negaverse? Man, that’d be weird. I get enough back-talk from Gunter as it is!_

_6\. Most importantly… why did Princess Bubblegum make a portal to your universe and not the universe with Fionna and Cake in it? Seriously, what gives?!_

_Finn says you’re a really smart nerdy type, so hopefully you can answer these questions. You’ll probably be able to pick up how great I am from the photos, too. I even threw a really cute one of Gunter!_

_Write me back, okay?_

_-Ice King_

_P.S.: Why isn’t Princess Bubblegum a princess in the negaverse? Or did she just say that to avoid me? That was weird, man!_

Simon didn’t quite know what to make of the letter yet, other than catching some similarities to Finn-Ice’s speech in the way it was written. Pushing it out of his mind, he switched his attention to the photographs, the top photo of a penguin that looked very much like Gunter, albeit without the spark of full sentience in its eyes.

Flipping past that, he found… _Oh, wow. WOW. and… is he using it to FLY?!_

“Simon, Finn-Ice is eating all the cookies in the kitchen and he said you told him he could,” Gunter said as he entered the room. “Did you really tell him that, or is he just lying again?”

“I spoke no lies, you butt!” Finn-Ice yelled from the kitchen. “Simon, tell him!”

Simon shrugged, trying his very best to hold back the impending grin. “Yeah, he’s telling the truth.” He handed Gunter the photographs. “By the way, check out these photographs Finn sent me!”

“Oh, good, you heard back from Finn!” Gunter said, flipping through the photos. “You’ve been worrying me with how depressed you’ve been these past two… weeks…” Gunter trailed off as he realized just what the photos contained.

“That’s… oh, blimey, you could knit a full-length coat from that thing!” Gunter exclaimed.

“So,” Simon said, fully grinning from ear to ear now, “that counts on our bet, right?”

“I think so,” Gunter said, handing the photos back to Simon. “To be honest, I’m so impressed by that beard I’m tempted to give you a week of breakfasts in bed.”

Simon tucked the photos back into the envelope they’d came in, along with Ice King’s letter. Doing the same with Finn’s letter, he gathered everything up and rushed over to the writing desk by the window. He figured now was as good a time as any to start writing back, and hey, he might as well write a reply to his his Ooo counterpart while he was there. Even if Ice King would probably get angry at him for critiquing his fanfiction, or at least he would if Finn-Ice’s reaction to the same was any indication.

He could hear Finn-Ice bickering with Gunter in the other room over whether or not all the leftovers in the fridge counted as cookies, but for once it didn’t bother him. Putting pen to paper, he began to write.

He didn’t want to keep his pen-pal waiting, after all.

_END_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY COMPLETED! I'd like to take this moment to thank the following people:
> 
> \- My co-AU-maker, stitchedmoon! [ http://stitchedmoon.tumblr.com/ ]  
> \- My beta readers, Waffles [ http://waffleguppies.tumblr.com ] and Phage! [ http://disgustiphage.tumblr.com/ ] You have made this story so much more grammatically correct and I cannot thank you both enough.  
> \- Tab [ http://tablart.tumblr.com/ ] for all the amazing illustrations! Trojan-Rabbit [ http://trojan-rabbit.tumblr.com ] has also done a really nice illustration, and I'll be adding it to Chapter 2 right after I upload this chapter. Also, to anyone else who's every done a drawn thing for this fic: You're awesome and great and I love you.  
> \- Ari [ http://ariofthesea.tumblr.com/ ] and Plot [ http://plotdesigner.tumblr.com/ ] for all the support and help when I got stuck! Really, this one goes out to all my friends, but you two helped the most.  
> \- All of Reverseworld's fans, for egging me on in this year-long endeavor! <3 Especially you, for reading this. Yes, you.
> 
> By the way, if you want to read more stuff set in Reverseworld(at least until I start on the next written thing!), Shwoo [ http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shwoo/pseuds/Shwoo ] has a series of one-shots based on episodes of the show!


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